


Woven

by tell_tale_heart



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-11 14:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8983795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tell_tale_heart/pseuds/tell_tale_heart
Summary: Eren tries to navigate his friendship with Armin after his emerging feelings for his best friend come to light.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [majesticartax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majesticartax/gifts).



> Written for my best friend, the lovely Majesticartax.
> 
> Thank you for being so fucking amazing, seriously. When I am feeling down and unsure, your support is priceless. Even when you have 9347594783 more important things to be doing, you are always there for me, and I love you.
> 
> I hope you like this! I had some ideas in mind when I first began writing it, but you know how these things go. Sometimes it just writes itself.
> 
>  
> 
> Bev-nap on tumblr did a piece of commissioned art for this fic, and can be seen [here.](http://telltaleheartwrites.tumblr.com/post/154932933361/i-commissioned-the-very-talented-and-kind-and)

12 years ago, September

 

Eren was excited.  It was the first day of kindergarten, and there were children his age and older all around him on the bus, loud voices chattering away.  He bounced slightly in his seat, unable to contain his energy.  Beside him, his only friend Mikasa was sitting quietly, her arms carefully folded over her Star Wars backpack.  Both sets of their parents had taken them to see the latest movie a few months ago, and it was all they had talked about for weeks and weeks.  Mikasa hadn't said much since they had gotten on the bus, and Eren wondered fleetingly if she was scared.

He decided to try and find out.  "Scaredy-cat!" he whispered tauntingly close to her ear, his mouth spread wide in a toothy grin.  She swiveled her head to level a glare at him, swinging her foot sideways to aim a kick at his shin.  This sort of back-and-forth behavior was kind of commonplace when they saw each other.

"Ow," Eren frowned, rubbing at his leg.  Ok, so maybe she wasn't scared.  He shrugged and looked across the aisle.  There was a small blond boy there sitting, clearly the victim of a recent bad haircut.  But that wasn't what caught Eren's attention.  In the boy's small hands was a Spider-Man action figure.  Awesome!

"Mikasa!" Eren hissed at his friend, trying to get her attention again.

"What?" she asked in a low voice, the one she used when she was annoyed with Eren.  Again, something that was almost an everyday occurrence.  

"That boy!  He has a _Spider-Man toy_."

Mikasa leaned forward to see around Eren, assessing the boy across from them.  Then she leaned back in her seat, her neat black hair swirling around her face.  "Spider-Man is cool, but Batman is better," she said staunchly.

"No way.  No way!"  They had had this argument before, neither of them backing down from their opinion.  Eren dug frantically around in his backpack, his grubby paw moving around the crayons and paper he had stowed in the main zippered compartment.  A moment later he was successful in bringing out his own action figure.  Wolverine.

"Eren, you know you weren't supposed to bring that to school," Mikasa said disapprovingly, crossing her arms across her chest.  "Your dad said so."

Eren merely shrugged again, not heeding his friend's words or tone.  He usually didn't.  Mom and Dad wouldn't find out, anyways!  And Mikasa wouldn't tell on him.  Or at least he didn't think she would.  He side-eyed Mikasa speculatively for a moment before forgetting about it.  Eren moved Wolverine's arms around, pretending he was fighting off a group of bad guys.  By chance, he looked across the aisle again.  The blond boy had been watching him, his big blue eyes wide and curious.  When he saw that Eren had seen him staring, he looked hurriedly down to his own hands where he was still tightly grasping his Spider-Man action figure.

They arrived at their school soon after that, and the kindergartners were ushered off of the bus by a teacher's aide.  Eren was busy for a while, looking around his new classroom, amazed by the posters and the games and the desks.  Desks??  Would he get one all to himself?  Their teacher soon had them pick out a seat, and Mikasa and Eren picked out desks across from each other by default.  They were used to being around each other, and had grown close because of it.  The kids nearest them were already chatting away at Eren and Mikasa, telling them their names and how old they were and how many brothers and sisters they had.  Eren's brow furrowed at the big, ugly boy next to him.  He kept bragging about his toys at home and his new puppy.  So he tuned the boy (Keith, maybe?) out in favor of playing with his Wolverine figurine, his hands hidden in the depths of his new desk.  

It was halfway through the day when Eren noticed the blond boy again, sitting across the room.  There were kids all around him chatting happily, though none of them were talking to him.  He looked smaller than the rest of them, his blond head bowed as he looked at the surface of his desk.  Eren tilted his head.  Was that boy like him?  Hard to make friends?  Well, Eren had Mikasa, but she had always been around.  She didn't count.  Even when he didn't feel like playing with her, her parents brought her over, and then both of their moms and dads busied themselves with drinking that red stuff in their fancy glasses that his parents would never let him try.  

At recess a few days later, Eren was swinging high up--high enough that the teacher's aide was chastising him into going lower.  Reluctantly, he did as he was bid, now dragging his feet in the dirt track beneath his swing.  Beside him, Mikasa was swinging steadily back and forth, her skirt tucked in at the sides but still fluttering slightly as the air parted in front of her.  

Eren sighed.   _Mikasa_ never got yelled at by the teachers.  Or by her parents.  He let his eyes wander around the playground, spotting some boys playing near and in the sandbox.  The little blond boy from the bus and his class was among them, shyly showing the others his Spider-Man figurine.  To Eren's astonishment, he saw one of them--Keith, right??--grab Spider-Man from the blond boy's small hands.  Eren stilled on the swing, watching.  The rightful owner tried to reach to get his toy back, but Keith's friend pushed against the blond boy's forehead, forcing him to fall down roughly on his butt in the sandbox.  

Eren was suddenly blisteringly mad, like a bird with all of its feathers ruffled the wrong way, ready to peck a hole through someone's hand.  He got up from his swing, and then he was running, skinny legs taking him towards the group in the sandbox.  The two bullies didn't see him quickly approaching, too busy lording over the blond boy with their stolen toy.  But they sure felt Eren shoving hard at them, and despite the weight and height advantage Keith had over Eren, he was still falling against his ugly friend, dropping Spider-Man in the process.  Pushed hard enough that they both fell over and bonked their heads together as they hit the sand.  Serves them right!  They looked up at Eren from where they were sprawled in the sandbox.

Keith got to his feet, his face red with anger, snarling.  He started towards Eren, who was more than ready to shove him down again.  But out of nowhere, a small fist was flying, socking Eren's opponent solidly in his face.  Mikasa.  Eren watched, eyes wide, as Keith started to wail, running towards the school.  After a quick look at Eren and then Mikasa, the second kid ran after his friend, not wishing to receive the same treatment.

Eren smiled, satisfied.  Kids shouldn't mess with him . . . or Mikasa, he admitted grudgingly to himself.  He turned towards the blond boy, who was sitting awkwardly on the back of his calves.  He was clutching at his Spider-Man action figure, and his blue eyes were swimming with tears, long lashes more prevalent with the onset of his crying.  Eren saw tear tracks running vertically down his face, over his reddened cheeks.  

"I'm Eren," he said, pointing a thumb at himself.  "And this is Mikasa."  They stood in the sand, waiting for the blond boy's reaction.  

Slowly, the boy stood, the back of his hand wiping at his wet eyes.  "I'm Armin," he said, his voice still a little choked with the remains of fear and tears.  

Eren didn't like to see Armin crying.  They were friends now, right?  So he reached for Armin's hand, holding it tightly in his own.  "Do you wanna come swing with us?" he asked.  "Or go on the slides maybe?"

Armin looked over at him shyly, no longer crying.   "Can we . . . play tic tac toe?" He pointed to where the game was currently unoccupied on their playground equipment.  "I wanted to try it, but nobody would play it with me."

"Yeah!" Eren said, already tugging on Armin's hand.  His new friend's eyes lit up then, a supremely happy smile making him beam like the sun.  

The trio played a few rounds of tic tac toe.  Armin beat Eren the first and second times, and then he helped Eren when he went up against Mikasa.  "We beat you, Mikasa!"  Eren cheered, grabbing at Armin's hand again, raising their joined limbs up in the air in celebration.  "We are the champs!"  Mikasa huffed at her two companions, small hands on her hips.

That was the first and last time Keith Gibbon--or anyone--ever picked on Armin at school.  But it would not be the last time that Eren held Armin's hand in his own.

* * *

 

September, present day.

 

"Whatcha got, Ar, whatcha got?"  Eren latched onto his best friend's thin wrist, trying to snag the paper list of classes from Armin.  But the blond simply transferred it to his right hand instead, waving it teasingly at Eren, his far arm extending out into the aisle.

"Guess you'll have to wait and seeeee," Armin smirked back at his friend, his voice lilting into a singy-song pitch.    

"Hmph."  Eren pretended to sulk, folding his arms against his chest, perusing his own list again.  His senior year was supposed to be _easy_ , but both Mikasa and Armin had talked him into adding a few classes to his repertoire in order to make him more appealing to colleges.   _American Literature, Pre-Calculus, Spanish IV, Chemistry_ . . .  He sighed loudly.  At least he had a free period in there, and gym.  With Armin and Mikasa helping him with his studies, it couldn't be all that bad, could it?  He didn't want to think about it anymore at the moment, though.  Instead, Eren's bright teal eyes watched Armin speculatively as he slid his class schedule into a folder, responding to something that Sasha had asked.

"You're a dork," Mikasa commented dryly from behind him, tossing her head to the side, a long-developed habit.  Her dark hair no longer obscured her vision, so now her cool gray eyes were able to assess her brother clearly.  "You two continue to act like you belong in kindergarten when you're around each other."

"Yeah, yeah.  Let me see your list."  Mikasa pushed her own class schedule forward on the surface of her desk, no playful antics in her behavior.  Eren compared their schedules, looking first at his and then back to hers.  

"ARGH.  You're taking all of the smart-people classes,"  he grumbled.  "AP this, AP that. . . Hey, but look.  We have 4th period study hall together. "  Eren tapped at Mikasa's schedule.  "This is where you'll be helping me to understand all that crap about _symbolism_ and _metaphors_ Ms. Ral is gonna lecture us on.  OH and then we have lunch after, too.  Awesome."

Eren handed Mikasa back her schedule.  Her eyes were narrowed at him now.  "As long as you put forth an honest effort this year into actually _studying_ , I don't have a problem helping you understand your course work."

"Mika, I totally studied last year.  Honest.  Remember the week before finals last year?"  Eren peered at her from behind his own wild foliage of bangs, huffing a breath to get them to move to the side.  

"Eren . . . you subsisted entirely on Red Bull and ramen, and then you almost collapsed on the way home after your last exam.  Your dad was furious."

"But I passed . . .right?  All B's and up."

Mikasa sighed.  "I don't approve of your studying process."

The bell rang then, signalling the end of homeroom.  Eren walked with Mikasa and Armin out into the hall, hands shoved into pockets as he turned to head left.  His adopted sister and his friend had turned to go the other way.  No doubt that they probably had most of their classes together.

"I guess I'll see you guys later, then, huh?"  He tried to sound as if it were some big sacrifice that he had to go on this noble quest alone to his classes (though he was tremendously looking forward to catching up with Connie about his adventures from the summer) without his two best friends, hoping that Armin would reveal if their schedules coincided at any point.  

Mikasa was totally onto him, rolling her eyes but the sides of her mouth were pulled up in amusement.  Armin, on the other hand, smiled softly at him, probably fully realizing that Eren was more than okay without them in his classes.  Yet he, more often than not, was fairly indulgent when it came to his long-time best friend,  giving in to his whims--but also managing to put his foot down when Eren tended to get a little too out of hand.  

"I'll see you in fourth, Eren."

BINGO.

 

* * *

 

A couple of weeks passed, and Eren settled into the rhythm of his classes.  Settled--meaning attending class and then bringing his assignments to study hall so that Armin and Mikasa could help him figure out the mess of homework he needed to do.  Mikasa clucked her tongue at him most of the time, but Armin was more patient.  He'd smile in understanding at Mikasa before scooting his desk closer to Eren, peering at the textbook in front of him.  

Mr. Zacharius, their study hall teacher, was pretty laid back with the comings and goings of his class.  As long as the students kept the volume of their conversations low and at least made an attempt to look like they were doing school work, he didn't much mind what went on.  It also helped that two of his best Physics students were in this study hall, so he was inclined to give Eren a lot more leeway when he would say something that would make Armin laugh or Mikasa smack at his hand when he reached for her snacks.

On one mid-September afternoon, Eren was sighing over his Pre-Calc homework.  He was going to have a test next week, and he didn't feel adequately prepared for it.  Sometimes it was as if his brain developed a mind block, and there was nothing he could do to make it so that he understood the material in front of him.   Armin, hearing his sigh of frustration, looked up from his own work.

"Eren?  What's wrong?"

Eren looked up despondently at his best friend.  "It's this Pre-Calc again.  Mr. Ackerman is trying to kill me, I swear it."  Mikasa may have rolled her eyes at her brother's hyperbole.  

"Come here," Armin said patiently, waving his hand over.  Eren eagerly stood up, relief already flooding through him at the thought of getting some much needed help.  He made plenty of racket as he dragged his desk over to his friend's side.  Some of the other students looked at Eren in annoyance, but he didn't much care, staring at them with a deadpan expression until they shook their heads and turned back to what they had been doing.  

Armin took a couple of minutes to review the material Eren was studying.  "Alright, so Eren, when you graph a parabola . . . Eren?"

Eren's eyes had been fixed on Armin's left wrist, around which a very tattered friendship bracelet resided.  He had lost himself in thought while considering the threads of brown and teal that were woven together, that somehow seemed to fit Armin's small wrist even after 6 years.  And then his mind had taken a journey back to when they were 11 years old.  Or as he, Mikasa, and Armin referred to it--"the bad year."

He tried not to think about it too often, for it was by far the most painful time of his life.  Yet he was never completely successful in shunning the memories away to the remotest corners of his brain.  To be sure, he often saw the friendship bracelet around Armin's wrist.  But when he let himself relax like this, with no other immediate course of action required but to just wait until Armin was ready to explain his math, his thoughts trickled through his brain, making connections that inevitably led to darker times.

His parents had sat him down one day in the living room, and he could tell it was serious by the way they sat rigidly across from him on the expensive couch.  The one Eren wasn't allowed on if he was eating or drinking.  And they explained how Mikasa's dad was very sick.  Providing a minimal description of what cancer was, and how sometimes one can win against it.  Mr. Ackerman was, sadly, not one of those fortunate ones.  It was only a couple months later that he succumbed to the savagery of stage 4 lung cancer.  

But then it got worse.

Eren's mom, Carla, had always been close to Mikasa's mother.  So a few months after Mr. Ackerman passed, Carla had convinced Mrs. Ackerman to join her for lunch.  To catch up.  To get her out of the house that she so continuously sequestered herself in now.  Mikasa had even come over to hang out that day, and both she and Eren had spent hours on his beloved Playstation 3.  Late that afternoon, Grisha Jaeger was standing silently in the doorway, still as a statue, watching the two youngsters yell at each other for covering fire or the like.  Standing as if observing them in a moment of happiness that he would soon have to take away.

A horrific car crash had claimed the lives of the two women, due to an overworked truck driver falling asleep at the wheel.  Mikasa came to live at the Jaeger's house thereafter, adopted by Eren's doctor father.  To this very day, Eren had trouble driving when semi-trucks were next to him without the fleeting feeling of loss sweeping over him again.  And he found himself always trying to remember what the last words out of his mouth had been to his mother.  It killed him, at times, to think that maybe he had argued with her when he should have been telling her how much he loved her. . .

And then it became even worse.

Armin, over a period of time, became short of breath.  When he and Mikasa and Eren chased each other around outside, or even when he climbed up a couple flights of stairs, his breathing would become labored and at times he would get dizzy.  He felt tired way more than usual, and said his chest felt funny.  A visit to a couple of doctors and an MRI revealed the cause--atrial septal defect.

The news was scary enough to an 11 year old Armin.  But it had destroyed Eren.  Because he had believed wholeheartedly that his friend was going to die.  No matter how many times Mr. Jaeger explained it to Eren, putting it into easily understandable terms, Eren wouldn't budge.  Because Mikasa's dad--stronger than any dad he knew--didn't make it.  And because the world had saw fit to take both his and Mikasa's moms away from them, too, and they were the nicest moms Eren had ever met.  So how could Armin, full of sweetness and gentle as a fawn, possibly be spared?

The day before Armin's surgery was a bad one, Eren refusing to get out of bed and Mikasa refusing to leave her spot on the floor near her brother. Thus Dr. Jaeger came up with an idea, in order to occupy his worried son and subdued adopted daughter.  "Why not make Armin a gift?"  So Eren had spent half a day trying to figure out just what would be good enough for his best friend.  And then he had it.  The friendship bracelets they had learned how to make the previous summer at camp.  

Dr. Jaeger took Eren and Mikasa on a brief shopping trip for supplies.  Eren settled on brown and teal thread--"Like my hair color and eyes!"  Mikasa had picked out some glitter and sequins, intending to decorate a frame to house a picture of the three of them together.  Both youngsters stayed up most of the evening to finish their projects.  Dr. Jaeger had not been able to find it in his heart to command them to go to bed when Eren and Mikasa were more animated than he had seem them in such a very long time.

The next day, both children had repeatedly asked Dr. Jaeger for any word from Armin's parents.  Finally, with a calm smile on his face, he broke the news to Eren and Mikasa.  Armin had made it through his open heart surgery, and he was going to be just fine.  Mikasa had cried then, quiet tears of relief and happiness trailing down her pale face, a small smile tentatively in place.  But Eren had broken down, sobbing loudly, all the dredges of worry and fear pouring out of him.   _Armin was going to be just fine_.  He could scarcely believe it.

They were allowed to visit him a couple of days later, bearing their gifts.  Despite Dr. Jaeger's instructions, Eren had immediately rushed to the side of his friend's bed, ignoring the wires and needles and machines.  It was just Armin there, a delighted smile on his face at seeing his two best friends appear.

Mikasa had presented her gift first, the photo frame bedazzled with sequins of every color in a perfect pattern around the perimeter.  And along the wide, wooden, face of the frame, she had written hers and Eren's names out vertically in glue on opposite sides, covering it with silver glitter.  Armin's name was featured prominently along the top strip of the frame, decorated in sparkly gold glitter.  The photo in the frame was one of the three of them at the beach from over a year ago, each of them tanned and happy.  Armin had crowed in surprise and happiness at her gift, eyes soft as he considered it.  Mikasa set it up for him on a nearby ledge, so that he could easily see it whenever he wanted.  

Eren hadn't taken his gaze away from his best friend since he entered the room, anxious to see that Armin was okay with his own eyes.  He was satisfied to see how happy his friend was, how smiles came easy to his lips and laughs bubbled out of his mouth.  But now it was his turn to hand over his gift, and he fished the friendship bracelet out of his jeans pocket.  The embroidery floss was intricately woven together, the brown and teal colors braided together beautifully.

"For you," Eren had said, reaching over for Armin's hand to bring his wrist closer.  He attached it as carefully as he could, fearful that this little bit of movement might hurt his friend somehow.  And then took Armin's hand slowly into his.  "My colors. So that I'm always with you," he explained quite seriously for an 11 year old.

Armin shifted his wrist a little to better see the craftsmanship.  He was silent as he looked at it, but looked up at Eren a moment later, eyes a little glassy with the threat of tears.  

"Thank you, Eren," Armin had said simply and quietly, taking a measured breath to hold himself back from crying.  One of Armin's doctors came in then, checking up on the young patient.  When Eren had left the hospital that day with Mikasa and his father, he had been immeasurably happy.   _Armin was going to be okay!_

It had Eren thinking, as he sat in his desk, near Mikasa and a now completely healthy Armin.  That maybe part of him didn't want to forget those bad memories, that depth of pain he felt during that year and afterward.  Because wrapped up in that was the celebration of his best friend living, of changing the tide of that year.  The beginnings of looking up again instead of hiding in his room every day.  And Eren never wanted to forget how it felt in that moment when he knew Armin was going to live.

"Eren?" Armin repeated in their study hall, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder and giving it a gentle shake.

Eren snapped out of his reverie, his eyes blinking quickly a few times.  "Sorry.  I'm sorry.  You were saying?"

Armin looked concerned, but as Eren didn't seem inclined to talk about what had been weighing heavily on his mind, he wasn't going to push him.  Especially not in a classroom surrounded by their peers.  "I was talking about parabolas . . ."

 

* * *

 

A week or so later, near the end of September, Eren was trying to stay focused in study hall.  He had been persistently working on the beginnings of an essay that he had to write for his American Literature class, due by the end of the following week.  He had come up with an opening paragraph, including his thesis statement.   Following that he had written out a rough outline for his supporting arguments and conclusion.  But the world of rebellion in _1984_ would have to wait, because his attention was caught on something else.

Bright teal eyes were considering an unknowing Armin as he read, Eren's gaze fixed on his shiny blond hair.  The class was mostly silent as the students spent their free period perusing the contents on their phone or desperately finishing homework assignments that were due in a later class period.  Eren fell into neither of these categories, for both Armin and Mikasa made sure that he always got his assignments completed days early, making use of any spare time he had.  

So it was with a relaxed expression on Eren's face that he gazed at his best friend, noticing that he had done something new with his hair.  Armin had it tied back, with some slightly shorter blond strands falling forward to frame his thin face.  Eren had noticed it had gradually been getting longer and longer the last few years, Armin's parents no longer insisting on a back-to-school haircut that made it look like a blindfolded person had cut it.  Eren privately thought the length suited his friend quite well, his golden hair just beginning to rest on his shoulders these days.  

"Hey.  Armin," Eren said, breaking the silence that had fallen between their group, as Mikasa and Armin had been working on various assignments.  Armin tilted his head to the side to show he was paying attention to what Eren was going to say, his blue eyes shifting to meet his friend's stare.  "Your hair is different.  I like it."

Armin was silent for a brief moment, expression unchanging.  Finally, his eyes traveled slowly back down to the page he had been reading.  "Thanks," he said quietly.  

It was not a usual type of Armin reaction, and Eren wondered if something could possibly be bothering his best friend.  Maybe something less than a perfect score on a test?  Maybe Armin's cat wasn't doing so well again?  Eren was not the best with words and describing feelings, but he had always found a way to cheer up his friend.  Finding it easier to communicate through actions.  Or gestures, like a flick of his fingers on Mikasa's forehead when she was being more stubborn than usual.  Or grabbing at Armin's hand excitedly when they went to see the latest superhero film in the theater at midnight.  Both of the people closest to him always seemed to know what he was saying when he did things like that.  

With those thoughts swirling in his mind, Eren reached his hand forward to Armin's hair, wrapping his fingers around the soft blond strands that were pulled back in a ponytail.  With a couple of gentle pulls, and a playful smile on his face, Eren said teasingly, "Yoink yoink." He was hoping Armin would look up at him, so that he could get a better read on his friend.  Maybe offer him one of his cherished cherry Jolly Rancher candies that were hidden away in his backpack, if needed.

Armin sighed, but then looked at his friend with a small smile on his face, blue eyes bright.  "Eren . . . " he murmured indulgently, pointing his pen at Eren's written assignment.  "Don't you have an essay you're supposed to be writing?"  

Eren studied his friend for a moment.  Armin simply stared back at him meaningfully, as if to show he wasn't going to back down.  When Eren saw the amused twinkle in his eyes, he was satisfied that everything seemed to be okay.  "I'm on it," he finally said, turning his body to sit more comfortably in his desk.  Armin watched him settle in for a few seconds, a faint pink blush coloring his cheeks.  He returned to his reading, finding it harder than before to concentrate.

Mikasa watched the entire exchange silently, observing.  When both boys went back to their studies, she shook her head in light exasperation.  And found herself wondering, yet again, if things would ever change.  She knew Eren detested change, avoided it at all costs.  Mikasa understood it, knew with a certainty where the problem stemmed from.  It had taken root when her parents and his mother died.  Manifested deeper when he found out Armin needed open-heart surgery.  Eren had been so careful with everything after that, so hesitant to change a routine, lest he tip the metaphorical boat over.  He tended to be slightly anxious when something unplanned popped up and he had to deal with it.  Fearful, however illogical it may be, that it would result in a huge loss like that of years ago.  But with Eren, no amount of talking about it would work.  He would get closed off and moody for hours after, and would only talk to Mikasa again once it was clear she had dropped the subject.  Maybe something like this, what she was seeing in front of her right now, was just one of those things that would happen naturally with time.

And her brother would wake up and realize he was in love with his best friend.

"Hi Eren!"  A chirrupy voice said from behind him.

Eren turned to see Christa Reiss, one of the school's varsity cheerleaders, smiling and waving at him from near Mr. Zacharius's desk.  The teacher was reading through a form, then took out a pen to sign it.

"Hey," Eren said politely, and then turned back to his paper.  

A minute later, he could feel eyes on him, eyes that have almost stared holes through him since he was an infant.  He looked up, and sure enough, Mikasa was regarding him thoughtfully with her razor-sharp cognition.

"What?" Eren asked defensively.

"Christa has been talking to you a lot recently," Mikasa said neutrally.  Eren saw Armin look up from his book, listening to the conversation.  

Eren looked at her quizzically, not really making much of her comment.  "No more than usual.  Besides, she's my partner in Chemistry.  We _have_ to talk a lot."

"Hmmm," was all Mikasa seemingly had to say, satisfied by her brother's answer as he went back to his assignment.  Her eyes flickered over to Armin, who was still staring at Eren.  She didn't miss the look of uncertainty on his face, or how when he eventually went back to his reading, he didn't so much as turn one page.

 

* * *

 

October

 

"I was wondering," Christa said to Eren in Chemistry one day as they set up a lab, "what you were doing this weekend?"

Eren considered the question for a few seconds.  "Nothing, I think.  Why?  What's up?"

"Well," Christa said a little nervously, looking at their lab materials, "Sasha and Connie and I were thinking about going to get ice cream this Friday after school.  Wanna come?"

Eren thought the invitation was a little odd.  Sure, he often went over to Connie's to play video games and eat food, and sometimes Sasha happened to come over around the same time, too.  But he had never really hung out with these three people before, as a group.  

"Ice cream?  It's pretty cold out these days," Eren commented, looking out the window.  Mid-October was often unpredictable in their state.  Some years the entire month was quite mild, full of sun and warmth.  And for others, cold weather would set in early with angry, dark-gray clouds that threatened days of high winds and chilly nights.  Sometimes even snow.  For the last week or so, the temperature had forced people into getting an early start on their winter wardrobes.  Eren himself had on one of his favorite hoodies.

"Yeah, true," Christa said, mulling over her next words.  "But Sasha and I both have quite the sweet tooth, so we think we can brave the cold if it means hot fudge shakes."

Eren turned bright teal eyes on her.  "Did you just say . . . 'hot fudge shakes'?"  

Christa giggled, tossing her blonde hair behind her as she leaned on their table.  "Yup.  That's your favorite, right?"

"Sure is," Eren said easily.  "Well, looks like I'm in.  I'll ask Armin and Mikasa if they want to come, too."

Christa frowned then, but spoke gently.  "Well, the thing of it is, my car only fits four people."  She shrugged, as if in apology.  "So I think that it will just have to be the four of us on Friday.  If you don't mind."

"Oh, sure. Yeah, no problem."   Their teacher, Ms. Zoe, came by then, spurring them into action.  So Eren didn't have time to think further on what he had just agreed to.

Friday afternoon rolled around, and Eren found himself zipping up his coat as he walked through the parking lot.  The trees were beautiful this time of year, full of bright reds, vivid oranges, and sunny yellows.  It was his favorite time of the year.  But it looked like the cold weather had found no problem in settling in.  The weather forecast had called for unseasonably lower temperatures than what they were used to.

"Eren?  Where are you going?  We parked over here."  Mikasa was thumbing in the opposite direction.  On her other side, Armin was eyeing him curiously.  

"Oh. Right. Well, uh, I actually have plans for after school.  So you guys go on ahead and I'll see you later."  Eren waved them off, heading over to where he saw Connie, Sasha, and Christa chatting near Christa's car. But Mikasa's incredulous voice stopped him.

"What kind of plans?"

Eren didn't know why, but he didn’t really want them to know.  It was weird, and he couldn't find the source of it.  He knew Mikasa wouldn't mind, because she didn't have anything against Connie, Sasha, or Christa.  She never really interacted with them, they had no common classes or extracurricular activities.  So was it Armin?  Eren knew that Armin didn't have a lot of close friends besides him and Mikasa.  He got along pretty well with Jean and Marco, two other people who took all the "smart people" classes, but that was about it.  So maybe Eren feared that Armin would feel bad that he wasn't getting ice cream too.  That he didn't have as many friends as Eren.  Yeah, that must be it.  

Eren turned to walk backwards as he responded to Mikasa.  "I'm going to get ice cream."

"With who?" Mikasa asked skeptically, hands on her hips.  

"Connie and Sasha.  And Christa," he said reluctantly.  He saw Armin's shoulders slump.  That . . . was not good.  He didn't like that.

"It's too cold for ice cream, dummy!"  Mikasa yelled across the distance that now separated them.  Eren just shrugged, and then turned around to walk normally.

When he approached the trio that were waiting for him, Christa surprised him by wrapping in a hug.  Okay then . . . he thought.  He hadn't known she was the hugging type.  Over her shoulder, he saw Armin and Mikasa watching him.  He couldn't really read the expressions on their faces from this distance, but the effort would've been fruitless anyhow, for they quickly got into the car that he shared with Mikasa.

"I'm so excited!" Christa crowed at him as she stepped backwards out of the hug.

Eren found himself not feeling the same.

 

* * *

 

"Christa's having a Halloween party this year.  You going?" Connie asked around a mouthful of Twizzlers.

"Eh," Eren said disinterestedly, shrugging his shoulders.  He was more into watching the tv screen and trying to hide his character behind a bulkhead at the moment.    

"Eh?" Connie questioned, but then quite suddenly yelled at his tv with, "FUCK YOU bLunTsmOkah420!!"  He had just been sniped by a member of the other team.  

Eren chuckled in commiseration.  "Ahh, that son of a bitch has been camping there for a while.  Got me last time."  He took a few shots on the screen.  "And I don't know, I don't feel like making a big deal out of it this year.  Kinda rather just stay in, to be honest."  

They didn't hear the sound of the front door opening due to the sound of bullets being fired and rampant explosions around them on screen.  But they did hear Sasha Braus.  "Connie!  We're here!" She called from the entryway.

"Sasha's here?" Eren questioned, successfully taking out a member of the enemy's forces.

"I guess so?"  Connie said, looking mystified.  "I dunno, I just go with the flow, man."

Eren hmphed at that.  There was the sound of footsteps, and Sasha appeared in the living room, followed by a cheerful Christa.   Eren didn't even notice the little blonde, so caught up in the round that he could acknowledge little else.

"CONNIE, are you guys almost done?" Sasha questioned, plopping down in an armchair.  

"Mmm, sorta," Connie said non-committally, eyes just as focused on the screen as Eren's were.    

"Well, Christa and I were thinking about ordering a pizza."

That had Connie's attention.  "Oh god, please do. I'm starving and Eren ate most of my Twizzlers."

Eren groaned internally.  Sasha AND Christa?  He had just gone out for ice cream with this very group.  When he had left with them after school yesterday, he had felt a little unsettled.  A lot weird that he was hanging out with people that he normally didn't.  It felt . . . forced?  At least, at first.  But he found that going for ice cream with them hadn't been so bad, after all (it helped that he got to slurp up his favorite shake).  There had been plenty to talk about, of course.  When Connie got going on a subject, he was like a goddamn jackhammer.  But he hadn't really thought about hanging out with them all again.  He had just wanted to play video games with Connie today.  

Christa came to sit down next to Eren on the couch, watching the action on the screen.  "You're good at this!" she said in wonder.  

"Thanks," Eren said, feeling a little gratified at the compliment.  When he played with Mikasa these days, she would yell at him or at the tv screen when one of their teammates failed at taking down an enemy.  Well, to be honest, she had always been a little scary and intense when they played video games.  It was the only time she ever really lost her cool.  And Armin had never really cared for video games of the first person shooter variety.  So it had been a while since someone had recognized his gaming skills.

And talking to Christa wasn't uncomfortable.  They could talk about their mutual love of _The Walking Dead_ and Twix.  She was a pal, and nice.  He didn't have a horrible time when she was around, like he did with Jean Kirstein (ugh, that skinny ass bastard).  Christa was also resourceful with the Chemistry labs, often having ideas about how to proceed when Eren got stumped.  

So when Christa giggled at something Connie said a few minutes later, and then laid her head against Eren's shoulder, he was just the smallest amount of surprised.  But not repulsed.    

 

* * *

 

The next week and a half or so passed in a blur for Eren, with some marked events.  He was walking to study hall one day after gym when he was joined suddenly by Christa.  "Hey!" she smiled brightly, shifting her backpack more comfortably on her shoulders.

"Hey."  Eren maneuvered around the stream of students in the hall, focused on getting to study hall.  

"We sure kicked ass in dodgeball today," Christa said with a laugh, tossing her head of elaborately curled blonde hair.  Eren wondered distantly how she managed to maintain her hairstyle even after gym class.  It just didn't seem . . . practical . . .in his eyes to trouble oneself so much about styling hair.

"Of course we did.  Connie can't hit a dartboard when it's four feet in front of him.  And Jean just sucks."

Christa laughed again, walking a little closer to Eren in the hallway.  "What're you up to this weekend?"

"Erm, nothing I think," Eren said as he nearly avoided being hit by someone's bookbag.  

"Well, what do you think about going bowling?  A group of us are getting together on Saturday, and I thought you might like to go."

"Oh. Okay, cool. Yeah, maybe I can go."  They stopped in front of the room where Eren had his study hall.  "I'm in here."  He motioned with his head.

"One sec. Can I have your number?  Ya know, to coordinate times for bowling and all that."  Christa took out her phone, biting her lip.

"Oh, sure."  Eren rattled off his number, recognizing Mikasa and Armin from the quickly disappearing group of students still left in the hall.  He made eye contact with Armin for a second, but his friend seemed unhappy.  Eren could see it in the subtle pout of his lips, and how his normally bright eyes were downcast.  And then Armin broke off the eye contact, looking at his feet. Eren frowned.

"Great, thanks!" Christa said with a sunbeam of a smile.  Mikasa and Armin made to pass by them to get into the classroom.  But Christa stopped them with a lilt to her voice as she asked, "Mikasa, Armin.  Eren and I are going bowling this weekend with some friends.  You guys wanna come?"

Eren felt the awkwardness of the situation, and he wanted to fall into a hole in the ground.  He hadn't for sure committed to going.  And Mikasa and Armin were his friends.  He should have been the one to invite them.    And the way Christa phrased it made it sound like Mikasa and Armin were outsiders, or a second thought.  He knew Christa was nice, and probably hadn't meant it that way.  Still, he didn't like it.  

Sure enough, Christa's question had Mikasa looking at the pair of them strangely, an eyebrow raised.  "Probably not," she said archly.  "I've got to study for midterms."  

"Same," Armin said with a half-shrug.  "Gotta keep my grades up."

"Mmmm okay!" Christa said, not sounding at all like she minded.  She turned to Eren then, and grabbed lightly onto his hand.  "I'll see you later."  And then she was off.

Eren felt that nagging, weird feeling again during study hall.  Mikasa and Armin were working quietly near him, and he wanted to talk to them about it and see what they thought.  But he couldn't really put his feelings into words, as usual.  And Mikasa would probably think it was related to his anxiety and would want to talk about that again, and he so wasn't up for that.  He just didn't feel . . . right.  He didn't think that Christa was the problem.  She was friendly, and they got along well.  She seemed to like leaning on him or hanging onto his arm or like today, when she grabbed his hand.  But friends did that.  It didn't feel uncomfortable.  He saw Jean and Marco doing the same kinds of things.  And Eren himself was often like that with Armin.  So it had Eren worrying all during that 43 minutes of time, trying to figure out what exactly it was that had him feeling inside out and all out of sorts.  

He didn't really come to any conclusion about its source.

The second marked event happened early on the following week.  Christa seemed to make it a habit of walking him to study hall lately.  Her own classroom for fourth period was just a few doors down, so it wasn't a big deal to Eren.  It's not like she was going out of her way or anything.  But that wasn't the strange thing that Eren noticed.  It was Armin.  

Armin had been noticeably quieter around him lately, and Eren didn't know what to make of it.  Whenever he tried joking these days, Armin would still smile and laugh, but it was like the next moment there was a cloud of melancholy hovering over him again.  He tried appealing to Mikasa about it, but his sister insisted that he talk directly to Armin.  Because she didn't know with certainty what was bothering Armin, and it would be unfair to voice her speculations.  That had made Eren a little upset, but she would not relent.  

One day in study hall, Eren was struggling with his Pre-Calculus work again, but he didn't want to bother Armin.  Things had been weird between them for a few days now, and he didn't know what to do about it.  Their friendship had always been so open and easy.  Nothing had ever come between them.  Even when Eren's mother had died, Armin had been right there, hanging on to Eren and not letting him descend too deep into a void where he couldn't follow and lift him back out.  It made Eren incredibly frustrated that he couldn't do the same for his best friend.  Sure, Mikasa had suggested he talk to Armin, but that was easier said than done.  He wondered exactly how to ask Armin what was bothering him while somehow working in there that he feared that he, himself, was part of the issue?  

He laid his head down on his folded arms with a groan.  It was an impossible situation.  If only he were better with words like Armin or Mikasa were.  Or if only he could wave a magic wand and make it all better.  Back to how things used to be between them.  

"What's wrong, Eren?" Armin asked neutrally from beside him, tapping a pen against his desk.  

 _If only I could say,_ he thought.  Eren tilted his head to the side to regard his friend.  What he actually said was, "It's the Pre-Calc again."

Armin nodded.  "Let me see."

Eren handed over his book to Armin, then leaned his head back down again as he waited for his friend to finish reading.  He gazed at him for a minute before realizing something.  Armin was wearing his hair down today, and had been for the last week or so.  As a matter of fact, Eren couldn't remember the last time he saw Armin wearing his hair tied back.  He wondered at that, adding it to the list of things about Armin that were different these days.

Eren's teal eyes traveled across Armin's profile, from the shape of his eye to his long lashes that fluttered when he blinked.  He smiled to see the healthy, creamy hue of Armin's skin, glad yet again that his friend was no longer in danger from the congenital defect in his heart.  Despite knowing that things weren't exactly right between them right now, Eren felt a wave of fondness wash over him in that moment, so very thankful for Armin's friendship and irreplaceable presence in his life.

Armin turned a page in Eren's book then, and his blond hair fell forward, a shield against Eren continuing to gaze unabashedly at his face.  Still feeling the calming effects of affection, Eren reached forward and tucked some of Armin's hair behind his ear, smiling to see the side of Armin's face again.

But Armin froze at the gesture, his only movement the clenching of his hands around the sides of Eren's textbook.  A few seconds passed, and he said quietly, definitively, "Can you not . . . do that?"

Mikasa, having seen and heard what had transpired between the two boys, stared wide-eyed first at one and then the other before going slowly back to her own work.  For the first time, she was afraid that things might approach an impasse between from which there would be no return.

Confusion and hurt fought for dominance in Eren's head and heart.  He didn't know quite what to do or say to Armin to put a bandaid on their friendship right now.  But Armin solved that particular problem for them by sliding Eren's math textbook back over to him, and in even, informative tones, explained step by step what the assignment entailed.  He filled in the gaps between what Mr. Ackerman had taught in class and the mental block Eren's mind had assembled.  The lesson now made sense.  

As Armin resumed his own assignment, Eren tried to work on his pre-calc.  He really, really did, managing to complete two problems.  But the hurt was starting to flood over the sides now, lapping at the borders of every piece of his conscious mind.  He had to say something, and he would.  Because he detested the air of awkwardness between them right now, and he would not let another minute pass in that way.   

Eren took a deep breath and set his pencil down so that it clinked lightly against the top of his desk.  Armin chose that minute to retrieve something from his backpack.  And that's when Eren saw it, and he felt even more keenly the feeling that there was something _really wrong_ with his and Armin's friendship.  Because for the first time in over six years, Armin was not wearing the friendship bracelet Eren had made for him.  Eren could even see the pale ring of skin where the bracelet usually rested, a slightly tanner hue surrounding it.

"Armin," Eren said quietly, waiting for Armin to meet his gaze.  Once he did, Eren saw the depth of emotion in his friend's beautiful eyes, but he did not understand what has caused the turmoil there.  He took a couple beats to reassemble his thoughts and asked, "Where . . . where's your bracelet?"

Armin looked down at his bare wrist, and his right hand massaged the skin there. "It fell off yesterday.  It came undone.  I--I have it at home, on my dresser."  He said nothing else, continuing to bury himself in his work.

Eren felt the very real threat of change coming ever closer to him and Armin, and he grit his teeth at the wrongness of the feeling.  Everything was somehow so different now, and he grasped at anything and everything in his mind that would get their friendship back on track.  Instead of focusing on his schoolwork, Eren gathered in determination.  He _would_ figure this out.  He _would_ fix things between himself and Armin.

 

* * *

The last days of October passed without further incident.  Though they were still a little distant when they talked to each other, for the most part, things seemed to have mellowed out between Eren and Armin.  For which Eren was extremely grateful. He hadn't yet figured out a way to make everything better, but he was trying, in his own way.  

This involved a myriad of things, but each seemed to result in Armin smiling at Eren.  One day during study hall, Eren put three green apple Jolly Rancher candies on Armin's desk without a word, and then went back to his studying.  They were Armin's favorite.  When Eren heard the crinkle of the candy wrapper from beside him, he could not hold back a smile himself.  On another occasion, Eren taped a doodle he had drawn of him and Armin on the inside of his friend's locker (Armin had been using the same combination lock for years).  His American Lit class had been pretty boring that morning, so he had occupied the time by drawing.  He was Wolverine and Armin was Spider-man, calling to memory the very first time they had seen each other. When he saw Armin later, the blond briefly placed a palm on his shoulder, smiling softly as he took a seat. And finally, on the Friday before Halloween, Eren slid his latest Pre-Calc test over to Armin, leaving it in on the shelf in his friend's open locker.  He saw Armin's eyes widen at the spikily written 98 at the top of the page, and then he was lunging at Eren, wrapping him in a tight hug.  "I knew you could do it!" Armin whispered fiercely into Eren's ear.  The hug lasted a bit longer than their usual ones, and Eren felt as if some unsaid things were being communicated between them as their bodies pressed against each other, and it made him happy. He squeezed his friend a little tighter, and a moment later Armin let go. But a smile played across the blond's face for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

Armin went over to the Jaeger's house on Halloween night, as he did every year.  Though Eren had been invited to the Halloween party at Christa's house, he had ultimately declined.  It had sounded like it could be fun, but he preferred a low-key evening in with Mikasa and Armin. He didn't want to change the routine that they followed every year, especially since he and Armin were well on their way to mending whatever it was that had put a hurt on their friendship in the first place.  He also by far enjoyed the time he spent with his sister and Armin over anyone else.  

Mikasa selected a supposedly scary movie on Netflix for the three of them to watch between trick-or-treaters while Eren and Armin brought out a couple of platters of pizza rolls and mozzarella sticks.  

"Didn't you want to go to that party?" Armin asked as they all made themselves comfortable on the couch.  

"Nah," Eren said dismissively.  "I wanted to spend Halloween doing exactly what we're doing right now."

They settled into watching the movie, occasionally reaching forward to fill their plate with more food.  But the movie wasn't scary.  It was ridiculous.  At one point, Eren laughed so hard that he fell off the couch and slapped his palm onto the floor, unable to contain his tears of mirth.  Mikasa kicked at him to get him to quiet down, but she was smiling.  

A few minutes later, when Eren was finally ready to get back on the couch, he found his spot claimed by Mikasa's and Armin's legs, for both of them had taken advantage of Eren's time on the floor to stretch out.  "Fine," Eren grumbled, "I'm closer to the food."  But soon enough, he noticed it was too quiet in the room.  He peered behind him to see that both Mikasa and Armin had fallen asleep on the couch.  Smiling affectionately, he grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and covered them with it.  Armin hmmed in his sleep, getting more comfortable with the added warmth of the blanket.

Once the movie finished, Eren took all of the dishes to the kitchen.  He returned back to the living room to see Mikasa stirring on the couch. "I'm going to bed," she said quietly, standing slowly so as to not wake Armin.  "You gonna ask him to sleep over?"

"Yeah," Eren said, looking down at the sleeping form of his friend.  

"Don't forget to have him set an alarm," Mikasa reminded him as she headed out of the living room.  "G'night."

"Night," he called quietly after her, taking a seat on the couch.  He reached out his hand to lightly grasp onto one of Armin's blanketed limbs.  "Hey, Armin," he said quietly, gently shaking what must have been his calf.

"Mmmm . . ." Armin hummed, his eyes cracking open a little.  "What time is it?"

"Late," Eren said. "Wanna just sleep over?"

"It's a school night," Armin mumbled, slowly sitting up on the couch.  

"Yeah, but you could just set your alarm earlier. You look too sleepy to drive home now."

Armin yawned widely, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.  "You're probably right."  Eren got to his feet, and then helped his friend up.  Armin proceeded to stretch his arms as high up as they went, a few of his bones cracking.  Eventually, Eren led the way up the stairs to his room with Armin trailing a little behind, still half-asleep.

"I'm gonna call my parents," Armin said quietly, sitting on the side of Eren's bed.  "Do you have some pajamas I could borrow?"

"Yeah, sure."  Eren rummaged through his dresser as Armin spoke to his father on the phone.  He found a smaller sized pair of pajama bottoms that he had worn a few years ago that were now much too short on his long legs.  But they would fit perfectly on Armin.  He had also grabbed a long-sleeved t-shirt for his friend, for he knew that he often got cold.

"Everything good?" Eren asked his friend as he set the pajamas next to Armin.

"Yeah, yeah, it's fine." Armin stood.  "Do you still have my toothbrush here?"

Eren nodded. Over the years, Armin had, of course, stayed overnight at his house multiple times. As a result, he had gotten into the habit of leaving a toothbrush in Eren's bathroom for occasions just like this.  They made their way to the bathroom with Eren retrieving Armin's toothbrush from where he had safely stowed it in his medicine cabinet.  Too tired to wait and take turns at the sink, the boys proceeded to brush their teeth at the same time.

Eren was vigorously brushing his teeth, almost finished with his routine, when he felt a soft touch at his shoulder. He looked at his and Armin's reflections, and saw that his friend was resting his blond head on him. Eren smiled around this toothbrush, seeing that Armin was oh so slowly brushing his teeth, eyes closed. As if he could fall asleep on his feet. His blond hair fell across his far cheek, the other side fanning over Eren's shoulder.    

"Yewr koot awmen," Eren said out loud, mouth full of toothpaste and saliva.

Armin's eyes opened slightly at the sound, and he met Eren's stare through the mirror.  "Huh?" he questioned, his own voice low and thick for the same reasons as Eren.

Eren leaned forward carefully, spitting out the toothpaste.  He rinsed his mouth out, now able to respond clearly to his friend. "I said, you're cute."

Armin froze, creamy cheeks quickly becoming pink. He lifted his head off of Eren's shoulder, completing his own toothbrushing and rinsing routine. "Thanks," he finally said, busying himself with placing his toothbrush back into the medicine cabinet.

"Let's go to sleep," Eren said quietly.  Armin changed into his borrowed pajamas as Eren removed his clothing, save for his boxers.  He was the opposite of his friend, often getting too hot while sleeping and finding it necessary to sleep with a fan.  Armin got into the bed first, quickly making himself comfortable by pulling the comforter up to his neck.  Eren turned off his bedroom light, and then crawled in after his friend.  He turned on his side, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room.  Not too far away from him, Armin already had his eyes closed, sleep just a few minutes away.

Eren felt at peace. His worries over the state of his friendship with Armin were slowly dissipating. He still wanted to know what had bothered him in the first place. But maybe it was just a mixture of things, like sending off college applications and the demands of school assignments and extracurricular activities. Maybe it hadn't been anything Eren had done, after all. Eren breathed easily, not even noticing how he had reached a hand forward to touch Armin's hair, his fingers idly curling a section of it around his index finger.

"Eren . . . " Armin murmured.  Eren could see, in the dimness of his room, that Armin's eyes were open and looking at him.

"Yeah?" Eren heard that his voice was deep with the quiet that comes near sleep. His fingers released Armin's hair in favor of another section, trailing all the way down and then moving to wrap the strands around his finger again.

Armin was quiet for a moment. "Hmmm . . ." he finally said, his eyes closed once again. "That feels nice."

It didn't really seem to Eren that that was what his friend had wanted to say.  But his mind was way too sleepy to sort it out, his tired mind absorbed in the feel of Armin's hair around his fingers. It was soft and thick, the brightest thing in the otherwise almost complete darkness of his room.  

Eren didn't feel the levels of gradual unconsciousness take him slowly into sleep.  But when he woke up to Armin's alarm the next morning, he saw that his fingers were still woven through Armin's hair.

 

* * *

November

 

The beginning of the month brought in Armin's birthday.  Mikasa gave him his gift during homeroom, a new pair of blue mittens and a matching scarf.   "It's so nice, Mikasa, thank you."  Eren took the long piece of fabric from his hands, and wrapped it carefully but a little haphazardly around Armin's neck.  

"There ya go," Eren said with gusto, grinning at his friend.  

"I'm pretty sure that nobody in the history of mankind has ever worn a scarf like that," Mikasa pointed out, tilting her head to look Armin over.

"Well I think it looks good on him like that," Eren said, handing over his own gift, sloppily wrapped.  Armin laughed at the wrap job.  "Hey, I tried!"  Eren protested.  

"What he means is, he tried to get me to wrap it, and I said no," Mikasa provided. When Eren kicked her from across the aisle, she kicked right back.

Armin opened the gift from Eren to find a few vintage Spiderman comics.  "Oh my god!" he yelled, and then looked embarrassed as everyone turned to look at him.  "Eren, I can't believe you got these for me! Thank you!"  

"You're welcome. I knew you were keeping an eye out on them on eBay," Eren said, shrugging. But Armin got up from his desk to hug first Eren, and then Mikasa.  

"Thank you guys," Armin shook his head, looking at the comics but fingers trailing through the woolly fabric of his scarf.

"Don't forget," Mikasa reminded him. "We're taking you out this weekend."  Armin smiled at that, his small, imperfect dimples showing.  When the three of them met up after school to carpool home, Eren noticed that Armin was still wearing the scarf in the same way as earlier, looped around his neck loosely, one end hanging over his back and the other over the front of his left shoulder.    

The next night, a Friday, Eren and Mikasa took Armin out for ice skating and hot chocolate.  Their blond friend was somehow a wonder out on the ice, and Eren found himself wondering how it was possible that he had gotten so good at gliding around the perimeter of the rink while he and Mikasa struggled along like tottering, baby deer taking their first steps.  

"Let go of me, you're going to make me fall," Mikasa gritted out through her teeth as Eren clung to her arm.  

"You're going to make _me_ fall," Eren said back at her as she grabbed onto the hood of his coat. They bickered back and forth good-naturedly for a few more minutes, as siblings so often do.  Armin came by then, his cheeks bright with the combined cold of the rink but also with the exertion of skating laps around the facility.  

"Are you guys doing okay?" he asked with a grin.

"Take him with you!" Mikasa insisted, pushing Eren at Armin.  Eren kept his arms out at his sides as he glided toward Armin, and his friend caught him at his waist.  

"Later, Mika!" Eren yelled back at his sister, as Armin took his hand and carefully towed along his friend.  Mikasa merely waved at them, then quickly went back to staring at the ice in front of her as if it were about to open up and swallow her whole.

Despite the brave front he had put on in front of his sister, Eren was terrified.  The ice was passing quicker than ever under his skates.  His whole body was stiff, save for his legs that he moved almost robotically.  People of all ages skated past them, small children even giggling at how awkward Eren looked. He had to bite his tongue in order to keep himself from sticking it out at them.

"I won't let you fall," Armin said gently, his face serene and sweet. Eren moved his clasped hand in Armin's grip so that their fingers were laced together and he breathed out deeply.  

"Okay," Eren said, trusting in his friend's good faith. He marveled at Armin's ability to put someone at ease so easily. All it took was his sincere words and expression and Eren was won over. One time, he and Armin had been riding bicycles down the street when they came across a crying child sitting on the sidewalk with a bleeding knee.  Armin didn't seem to think twice about it, directing his bicycle immediately over to the boy and inspecting the damage.  It took less than a minute for Armin's attentions to calm the child, and then they had helped him get home for treatment.  Eren shook his head, glancing over at his friend.  He wondered how it was possible to be that good of a person.  To just genuinely want to help in any way possible, to want to be kind to everyone.  To this day, whenever Keith Gibbon (the annoying shit of a kid from kindergarten) was brought up, Armin would just shrug his shoulders and say, "Eren, that was a long time ago, and I'm sure he is sorry about it now."  Even Mikasa would look a little incredulous at that.  

The waves of Eren's anxiety slowly ebbed away like the tide going out.  He even found himself enjoying the ice skating once they got going, though he didn't try any tricky maneuvers like some of the other teenagers.  He and Armin skated around the rink for a few laps, fingers still linked and warm palm pressed against warm palm.  Eren felt an unfamiliar heat gathering slowly in his stomach, radiating up to his chest at the feeling.  But he was too busy trying to skate and not look like an idiot to analyze the feeling.  Finally, they spotted Mikasa sitting on one of the benches and made their way over to her.

"Throwing in the towel?" Eren teased at her, moving to sit beside her on the bench.

"Just wanted to take a break."  She finished tightening up the laces on her skates, then pushed the bangs off her face.

"Mikasa, want to skate with me?  I can help you around the ice," Armin offered, still leaning against the boards separating the ice from the bench.

"Ok, sure."  Mikasa got up and moved around Eren to get back on the ice.  "You coming, Eren?"

"Nah," Eren said, waving them off.  "You two go on."

Armin smiled at him as they moved away.  Eren watched as Mikasa laid a hand on Armin's shoulder as a means of support.  He hated to admit it, but Mikasa was slightly better of a skater than he was. In a lot of things, Mikasa was quicker to analyze a situation or process, and figure out the best way to work through a problem.  It had been a couple of years since they had last come skating, but already she looked quite steady on her feet.  She even attempted to skate backwards, and only looked a little wobbly.  

Eren hmphed to himself, his chin leaning on his arms on the boards.  But he found that his gaze traveled to Armin's lithe form, how effortless skating seemed to be for him, the graceful nature of his movements.  His blond hair moved around his face as he skated, and Eren watched as he laughed at something Mikasa said.  He really was beautiful, Eren thought.  His friend could break hearts with his bright eyes, and soft, flowing hair.  That thought took front and center stage in his mind, and he found himself . . . unhappy . . . with the thought of someone being interested in Armin.  He wondered at that, poking and prodding at the feeling, a crease forming between his brows.  Maybe it was because he was protective of Armin?  And had been since they were in kindergarten?

He thought about it more when the three of them went to a nearby coffee house, taking seats on well-worn armchairs that surrounded a glass coffee table.  Armin was the most talkative of the three of them, chattering away excitedly, cheeks still flushed from the cold of being in the rink and then outside as they walked to get hot chocolate.  Mikasa was more relaxed than usual, her legs curled up under her as she smiled at the things Armin was talking about.  But Eren's heart was beating fast in his chest, his palms now sweaty as several of his earlier thoughts solidified in that moment.

Armin was _beautiful_.

And he didn't want anyone else to notice.  

Because . . . because . . .

He had noticed.

The realization had Eren lurching to his feet, excusing himself hastily and mentioning the restroom.  He didn't see the twin looks of confusion and concern that followed him across the room.  Once safely inside and with the door locked to the restroom, he leaned against the sink, panicking.  

Armin was his _friend_ .  He shouldn't be feeling this way about him, should he?  Because . . . because that was his best friend.  One of the two most important people in his life.  And if Armin ever found out, how would he react?  He'd probably be nice about it at first, Eren thought, while turning him down gently.  But then things would get awkward after that.  Because then everything he did thereafter would make Armin think that he was doing it or saying it because he had feelings for him.  Then Armin would feel oh so _guilty_ that he didn't return these . . . these feelings . . .

Eren put his hands over his eyes, shaking his head.  How had he not seen this coming?  How could he be so dumb?  His eyes watered with the intensity and range of his feelings that swarmed through him at that moment, and it took a few minutes longer before he could fully compose himself.  When he returned to Mikasa and Armin, they both scanned his face to pick up on anything he wasn't telling them.  But Eren forced himself to smile, forced himself to tell them he was alright.  He needed to do this.  Because an unknown factor had already made things distant between Armin and himself just a few weeks ago.  And the only end result he could imagine possible if Armin found out about his feelings was losing Armin himself.

He could not let that happen.  So he would do anything in his power to hide it.

 

* * *

 

It was in study hall a few days later that Eren experienced his first true test on shielding his feelings for his best friend.  As usual, he was sitting near Mikasa and Armin as the three of them worked on various assignments.  On most days, Eren would take small breaks every ten minutes or so, not able to sustain a consistent studying frame of mind while Armin was there beside him to talk about comics or movies.  Or to gaze at his friend when Armin was absorbed in reading a book. But for the past two days or so, Eren had made sure he kept his nose in his books throughout study hall and homeroom, managing quite easily to get ahead on his schoolwork.  Mikasa had raised an eyebrow at his supposed enthusiasm for his studies, while Armin patted him on the back and sent a bright smile his way. That had Eren's cheeks blossoming into a most likely unflattering shade of red, and he quickly returned to his studies.

He was currently reading ahead in _The Catcher in the Rye_ when he felt a looming presence over his right shoulder.

"Wow Jaeger, you actually read?"

Eren automatically stiffened as he recognized the light raspy voice.  Mother-fucking Jean Kirstein.  His eyes narrowed on the page he was reading, but he slowly looked up and over his shoulder.  "Fuck you, dude," he said, perhaps a little louder than he should have.

"Language, Jaeger, language," Mr. Zacharius warned from his desk at the front of the class, and then went back to his class prep.

Jean grinned at the admonishment before focusing on Armin.  "Hey Armin, you ready?"  

"Yeah, sure, just a minute."  Eren propped his novel down against the surface of his desk, watching as Armin stowed his textbook and notebook away in his backpack.  

"Where are you going?" Eren asked.  He didn't like the sound of own his voice, low and . . . different.  Armin stood and looked from Mikasa and then back to Eren.  

"Well, uh, Jean and I are helping Ms. Zoe with a special project of hers," Armin explained, his fingers tapping nervously on the strap of his bookbag.  "So I guess I'll see you guys at lunch?"

Mikasa said a quiet good-bye, but Eren was not sure of his response.  He thought he nodded, or maybe he didn't.  All he was sure of was the hot, uncomfortable feeling in his stomach like a boiling pot of water.  He felt his breathing pick up, felt his face get warm.  All because of that lanky-ass bastard Jean coming in and taking Armin with him.  He didn't like it.  He didn't like Jean.  And he especially didn't like how overconfident Jean acted all the time, or how Eren had _definitely_ overheard him talking to Marco one day about some guy he liked.  

Eren's hands closed into fists.  He felt Mikasa's searching gaze on his face, but he dared not look up.  There was no way he could tell her about his feelings for their friend, or how he had succumbed to some fit of jealous indignation over Armin spending time with someone he had been friends with for quite a few years now.  Eren felt himself calming down a little bit at that thought, trying to reason with his own illogical emotions.  Telling himself how embarrassed he would be if he had to tell Mikasa that he was jealous over such a thing.  That after her initial surprise over revealing his feelings, she would chastise him over being so insecure.  The boiling feeling in his stomach calmed.  And he found he could get back to his reading, though he was still a bit distracted.  

Eren and Mikasa walked to lunch together, and Eren was glad to answer her questions about the college applications he had submitted.  He was vying for the state college in their area, one that featured the program he wanted.  He was assuring her that Armin had indeed looked over his admissions essay and given it his seal of approval before he had submitted it when he suddenly lost his voice.

Standing just outside Ms. Zoe's classroom were Armin and Jean, involved in what looked to be a happy conversation.  Armin was cradling a book to his chest, a shy smile stretching across his face as he talked, tucking some hair behind his ear.  Jean nodded at something Armin said, and then laid a hand on his shoulder.  There was something about the easy grin on his face, one that Eren never really saw before, that made him think that Jean was up to something.

That's all Eren saw, for the boiling feeling was back, and it was spilling out the sides.  He made some sort of pained noise, not really hearing Mikasa's voice call at him, "Eren?" but feeling the nervous, jittery feeling of his body.  He needed to move, and he needed to move now.  

Mikasa seemed to know he needed her help. She clamped a hand around his wrist, and yanked him into the cafeteria. They set their belongings down onto the table that they usually shared with some of their friends, and then she was pushing him forward by his shoulder into the lunch line.

"What is it?" she asked in a quiet voice, low enough that the loud chatter of students around them would cover any of her words.

"It's nothing," Eren said, on edge.  "Just . . . I don't want to talk about it, okay?  Please, Mikasa. I can't."  He directed the most pleading expression at her that he could manage.  

Mikasa studied him for a moment longer, the two of them moving with the flow of the line.  "Okay. Okay, Eren," she finally said.  "But whatever it is, you need to figure out how to deal with it. Because from what I just saw, you looked like . . . I don't know. Bad. The worst I've seen you in a very long time."

Eren took a couple of deep breaths, eyes closed.  When he opened them, Mikasa was still eyeing him in concern. "I will figure it out," he said quietly, determined.  "Okay?"

Mikasa nodded, looking a little less worried.  They both chose a lunch, then went back to their circular table, Eren's eyes flicking over his friends.  Connie and Sasha were already seated at the table, as was Marco.  He and Mikasa took a couple of seats next to each other, his sister engaging in a quiet conversation with Marco about some class assignment that Eren quickly tuned out.  He had just taken a drink of his chocolate milk when he almost choked on it.  Because Armin and Jean had just joined their table, taking up seats on Marco's other side, so that Armin was sitting directly across from Eren at the table.  He set his milk down on his tray a little too hard, and a few drops sprayed out onto the table.  What _really_ bothered Eren was not that Armin and Jean were sitting next to each other.  It was how Armin was acting.  He didn't even look Eren's way once, and there seemed to a nervous flutter about the way he only nibbled at his food.  Eren started to feel a little suspicious at the way Armin kept talking to Jean, how Jean kept smiling encouragingly at Armin, how Armin kept tapping on the surface of the table nervously.  

Eren couldn't handle much more of it. Mikasa was still talking to Marco on his right, and over to Eren's left, Sasha and Connie were being playful and affectionate. He was about to get up from the table and dump his uneaten lunch when someone swiftly took the lone empty seat next to him.  

"Hi, Eren."  Christa was sitting so that her body was turned completely to him, a small smile on her face.  Eren turned his head to look at her, grateful that his friend was there as a distraction. He noticed that she had come over without a lunch.

"Hey," he said, slowly unclenching his hands from the fists they were in.  

"You alright?" she asked worriedly, placing a small hand on his back.  

She was so nice, Eren thought. It felt reassuring that one of his friends was helping to calm him down. So he managed to smile weakly at her.  "I have a headache," he explained, hoping she didn't spot his lie. "Not feeling really well."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, propping her chin up with her fist. "I have some ibuprofen in my purse if you'd like some."

Eren was just about to turn down her offer when he heard the threads of conversation from across the table.  

"So about six tonight?" Armin was asking.

"Yeah," Jean responded.  "You still have my address from before, right?"

Eren breathed out noisily from his nose, then focused all of his attention on Christa. "That'd be great. Can I come with you? Do you have it at your table?"

Christa smiled sweetly, but sympathetically.  "Of course. Come on."  She stood from the table and Eren moved to follow, tray of uneaten food in his hands.

"Where are you going?" Mikasa asked, looking from Christa to Eren. Eren looked solely at his sister, blocking out everyone else at the table.  He found he was good at that.

"I'm figuring it out," he said pointedly to her. Mikasa seemed to get the message, and though she looked like she wanted to say more to him, she seemed to think better of it and just nodded instead.

Christa led the way over to her table, her bubbly personality showing even in the way she walked, blonde hair swinging. Eren saw Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, and Ymir seated there, all eyeing his and Christa's approach.  Reiner and Bertholdt seemed to look friendly enough at him as he sat down next to Christa, nodding their heads at him in casual acknowledgment.  Annie looked bored, popping a french fry in her mouth, before turning back to Reiner to continue a conversation. Ymir, however, seemed to be glowering at him intently from the onset. Though once Christa elbowed her in the side, she seemed to collect herself, choosing to ignore Eren completely.  

"Here ya go, Eren," Christa said, handing him two ibuprofen. Eren stared at it dumbly for a moment, before remembering he was supposed to have a headache.  

"Thanks," he said distantly, swallowing them down with the aid of his chocolate milk.

From Eren's seat at the table, he didn't have a clear view of his friends, who were halfway across the cafeteria. Bertholdt and Reiner were just too tall and large, occupying a good amount of space directly in front of Eren. But he didn't mind, finding that it made it easier to concentrate on other things. Like Reiner's dirty jokes that had him eventually laughing lightly.  Or Bertholdt's on point impersonation of Principal Smith's lecture over that morning's announcements, reminding that vandalism of any sort would not be tolerated. Even Annie cracked a smile at that.  

Though Eren wasn't exactly on super friendly terms with any of them except for Christa, he found himself able to fit in with them easily enough. He had had a few classes with both Reiner and Bertholdt over the years, and they had always been friendly. When he was in elementary school and later on in middle school, he had found himself in trouble from time to time and reporting to the principal's office, only to find that Annie was also in the same boat. Ymir was in his gym class, and he found that they both shared the same kind of frenetic energy, always needing to be moving around and part of the action. He felt himself feeling immensely better near the end of the lunch period. So when Christa asked him if he would like to come see a movie with them that weekend, he immediately agreed.

Saturday night rolled around, and Eren didn't really give much thought to how he was dressed. He had never hung out with this particular group of people before, choosing to treat it like any other outing with friends. So he chose some comfortable jeans and a t-shirt, throwing on a hoodie over it. As he headed downstairs, Mikasa popped out of the kitchen, a plate of pasta in her hands.

"Going to Armin's?" she asked, taking a seat at their dining room table.  

Eren shook his head. He had, often enough over the years, spend a good amount of Saturday nights at his best friend's house, so Mikasa's question wasn't way out in left field. "No, going to the movies with Christa.  And the rest of that group."

Mikasa eyed him speculatively as she so often did.  "Eren . . . .do you _like_ Christa?"

Eren shook the lingering thoughts of Armin out of his head, pushing away thoughts that maybe Jean was the one going to Armin's house tonight instead of him.  "Huh?"

"Christa. Do you like her?"  Mikasa leaned back in her chair.

"She's my friend, of course I like her."  Eren grabbed the set of car keys from the hook in the entryway.

"Don't be obtuse. You know what I mean," Mikasa said stubbornly.

"It's not like that. She's just my friend," Eren replied, starting to get a little steamed.

"Maybe for you . . ." Mikasa intoned, a keen expression on her face.

Eren sighed. "I don't have time for this. I'll be back later. G'night."

"Night."

He met Christa and co. at the theater, and then they lined up for a few snacks. The rest of the group was ahead of them in line, and when he finally got to the counter, he ordered a soda and some candy. Christa was still standing there beside him, looking at the menu in front of them. Feeling that he ought to be polite, he asked, "Do you want something? My treat."

"Can I have some Sprite?"  Christa asked, eyes bright as she looked at Eren.

Eren ordered her drink, and then they followed the rest of the group into their theater.  He found himself sandwiched between Annie and Christa, feeling relieved that he could spread his long legs out. Halfway through the movie, which was not incredibly exciting, he reasoned that he was having fun. Going out with this group was a great distraction from his feelings for Armin, and his fears that his friend might be interested in Jean and vice versa. So he immersed himself in the movie as best as he could, chewing on his Reese's Pieces and shaking some out into Annie's palm when she held out her hand near the box of candy.  

After the movie, they all headed out together and said their goodbyes in front of the theater.  Eren didn't want to linger overly long, because it was approaching mid-November and it was fucking cold. He yanked his beanie down a little further to cover his ears.

"Oh, Eren, would you mind giving me a ride home?" Christa chirped at his side. Eren saw Annie rolling her eyes and Reiner grinning. "It's just that, you know, Ymir gave me a ride here, and I live out of the way."  

Eren wondered how exactly Christa would know where he lived, but he shrugged the thought off.  "Sure," he said.  "No problem. I'm this way."

Everyone called out their goodbyes, and as Eren started to walk towards his car, Christa linked her arm through his.  "It's so colddddd," she groaned, shivering in her coat beside Eren.

Eren asked for Christa's address, noting that she indeed didn't live too far away from him.  He let his car warm up for a few minutes, and then they were off. Christa made small talk during the ride home, talking about the movie's exciting parts and how she hoped there would be a sequel.  Eren privately thought that if a sequel were made, he certainly would not be going to see it.

As they got closer and closer to Christa's house, he couldn't help but notice that his friend seemed to be getting nervous. She was wringing her hands in her lap, then moving to fiddling with her hair. He pulled in her driveway and put his car in park.

"Thanks for inviting me out tonight," he said politely. "It was fun."

Christa turned to him slowly. "I'm glad you had fun. Can I--can I hug you?"

Eren moved forward a little in response, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.  He felt her arms snake around his neck, and he remembered she was the hugging type of person.  When the hug went on longer than he thought necessary, he tried to pull back.  Christa seemed to get the hint, for she started to pull slowly away, too.  But she stopped to look him in the eyes for a moment, biting her lip.

Eren was starting to feel awkward, and he wanted to go home.  But he didn't want to be rude to his friend.  He was about to say something when Christa closed her eyes.  It was the only warning he had before she pressed her lips gently to his, then moved her lips to kiss him once again.

He was honestly too shocked to do much but freeze for a moment.  But then his brain caught up to what was going on and he squawked, his hands going to Christa's shoulders.

"Christa, I can't.  No."  His breath was coming out in quick exhalations, and he saw the hurt look on Christa's face as she moved back into her seat.

"You don't like me?" she asked dejectedly, her eyes starting to water and cheeks bright with mortification.

"Not like that," Eren said quietly, trying to be gentle in turning her down. "I'm sorry."

"Don't--don't be sorry," she mumbled, a tear slipping down. She hastily wiped it off her face with the back of her hand. "Good night, Eren."  And then she was out of the car before Eren had a chance to respond.

Mikasa was still up when he got home, watching some sort of trashy reality tv show that she would never admit to anybody else she was a fan of.  He hung up the keys in their spot, and then slumped almost bonelessly onto the couch beside her.

"It went that good, eh?" she observed wryly.

Eren looked at her mutely for a minute, trying to summon the words.  "She kissed me."

Mikasa arched one of her eyebrows. "I thought she might."

Eren sighed. "Yes, you were right, feel free to get it all out."  He expected her to tease him mightily, but instead, she went quiet with thought.

"I take it that you turned her down nicely?" she asked, returning her eyes to her program.

"Yeah."  Eren watched a man and a woman arguing on the tv without really absorbing what they were saying. "I guess I need to keep trying to figure out a way to make things better."

"And you still don't want to talk about it?"  

Eren turned to look at his sister, who was still watching the tv.  There was something about the way she spoke so casually, held her face expressionless, that made him think she might already know what was bothering him.

"Yup." He got up from the couch.  "Good night. Enjoy your crappy tv program."

Mikasa laughed.  "Oh. I will. G'night."

 

* * *

 

By Monday afternoon, most of Eren's classmates seemed to know that something had happened between Eren and Christa.  In gym class, when they played a game of indoor kickball, Ymir lobbed a ball at his head which she insisted was an "accident", and Christa kept a careful distance from him.  She did not walk with him to study hall.  At lunch, Connie was chortling.

"Damn, Eren, way to break that girl's heart," he chided playfully. Eren glared at him, not rising to the bait.

"What's this?" Sasha asked as she scooted her chair in, interested in the subject matter.  "Is that why Christa was crying in the bathroom this morning?"

Eren sighed.  Everyone was either looking at Eren to gauge his reaction or at Connie, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Yeah, I heard Hannah and Mina talking to her about it during second period. Apparently," here Connie looked at Eren, "Christa kissed him this weekend and he turned her down. Stone cold."

"It wasn't like that, asshole," Eren said acidly.  "Okay? I tried to be nice."  He saw Armin turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh ho ho," Connie continued, not put off by Eren's tone or words.  "Dude. Next time, maybe get a clue. How could you not tell she liked you? I thought it was obvious."

"Enough. Drop it."  Mikasa's voice, though quiet, contained enough heat and force to shut down the conversation. Connie's eyes went wide, because nobody ever wanted to be on the receiving end of Mikasa's anger. The entire table was silent for a moment, but slowly everyone started to talk quietly amongst themselves. Eren looked at his sister gratefully, hoping she understood the feeling he was trying to convey. She seemed to get it, nodding at him once and then turning to ask Jean a question.

Over the next week and a half before Thanksgiving break, Eren endured a lot of awkwardness. In gym class, Ymir would bump into him or crack her knuckles threateningly if he happened to look her way.  Eren didn't feel afraid of her, knowing she was just protective of her best friend. And he occasionally ran into Christa in the hallways, where she would quickly dart around him, face flushed. Chemistry experiments were the worst, for it was necessary that they speak to each other. Even so, Christa avoided looking at him at all costs, often staying on the opposite side of their table. It took her most of the week to finally talk to him normally, and when she did, Eren was relieved to see that she wasn't angry at him, too.

"I'm so sorry, Eren," she said earnestly one day. "I feel so stupid, and don't know how to act around you. I guess I was hoping you felt the same for me, too."  She took a deep breath, and then finally looked up at him from her seat, blue eyes wide and resolute. "I was wrong to just kiss you like that, I know. And maybe you'll say no, but I was hoping we could get back to being friends."

Eren felt  like a hefty weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "I would like that," he said.  "And . . .I'm sorry too. For not realizing maybe how you felt."  Christa smiled at him then, patting him on the back.

"Let's do this lab, shall we?"

 

* * *

 

The Wednesday before Thanksgiving break felt like the longest day of the school year.  Teachers still seemed to insist upon teaching lessons, even though their students had obviously tuned out.  But Mr. Zacharius didn't even try to quell the chatter in study hall, instead choosing to cross his legs and set his feet on his desk.

Eren, Mikasa, and Armin eagerly walked to the car after school, excited for Thanksgiving and a few extra days off of class.  They were just getting in the car when a voice called out, "Hey Armin!"   

The three of them turned in tandem to see Jean getting into his car with Marco.  He looked at Armin with an eyebrow raised, and then said meaningfully, "Don't forget."  Armin's cheeks reddened, but he nodded, and then slipped into the passenger seat.

"What was that about?" Eren asked, glaring at the back of Jean's car as he pulled out of the parking lot ahead of them.

"Oh, just some assignment we have," Armin said breezily.  Mikasa looked sideways at him as he said that, her eyebrows slightly scrunched, but then she turned her attention back to the road.

Eren didn't miss that exchange.  He knew that Armin and Mikasa had most of, if not all, their classes together. And she didn't seem to know what he was talking about. The familiar pangs of anxiety he had housed over the last month or so began to gnaw at his insides again. He even opened his mouth to question Armin further, but his friend beat him to it.

"So we have everything for tonight, right? The snacks, the movies?"

It had always been their tradition for Armin to go over to the Jaegers' house the night before Thanksgiving. They would all eat a bunch of junk and watch movies all night, usually falling asleep on the couch or loveseat in the living room.  They would wake up at some point late in the morning to the smell of Dr. Jaeger's cooking, and eventually Armin would go home to have dinner with his family.

"Yup," Mikasa said.  "Eren and I went to the grocery store last night. He almost forgot the gummy worms."

"You fiend," Armin snarked, turning in his seat to tease Eren.  

Eren couldn't help it, giving in to the easy smile of his best friend. "They weren't on the list," he protested. "But I remembered just as we got in line."

"Yeah, and you ran across the store for them. You should have seen him, Armin.  We went around 9 and he insisted upon staying in his pajamas--the ones with penguins, you know--and all the old ladies in the store were shaking their heads at him."

"Sounds like Eren," Armin teased.

"Hey!"

Mikasa and Armin continued to have fun at his expense the rest of the way to the Jaegers', Eren's earlier concern forgotten.

Once in the house, Armin took a good look at the snacks they had purchased, nodding his head in approval.  Later on, they would have a pizza from their favorite restaurant delivered.  But for now, they lounged around in the living room, watching movies, snacking on assorted chips and dip.  Armin even had his bag of gummy worms open beside him, and occasionally Eren or Mikasa would reach over to snag one from the bag.  

Eren felt right. To him, this was how things should be. A happy Armin, a smiling and content Mikasa. Though Eren had felt an almost daily form of anxiety whenever he saw Armin and Jean near each other, he found that he had started to deal with it better.  He was able to reason with his mind, telling himself that they were just friends.  And that's how it really did seem to him, most of the time. The guy that Jean had spoken of that he had a crush on?  It could be anyone.  Eren felt less burdened with each day.  Armin almost always sat by him at lunch, and only didn't when someone else claimed a seat next to Eren first.  It wasn't a big deal.  And ever since Armin's birthday, their friendship had been rock solid.  He never teased Eren about the whole Christa incident. If anything, Armin seemed to be friendlier towards her.

Eren saw nothing in Armin's behavior that suggested he knew about Eren's feelings for him.  He found that he could just act like his usual self around his blond friend.  For Armin didn't seem to think anything was off when Eren would occasionally tug at the ponytail he had started to wear again, or when he would catch Eren staring at him in study hall.  It just felt so natural, so easy, how they were able to spend time together.  

Though sometimes it hurt Eren to hide his feelings from Armin, and the romantic future together they would never have, it came nowhere close to the fear of losing his friend forever.  So he happily accepted their friendship for what it was, in love with his friend and only his own heart none the wiser. Though Mikasa did eye him often these days.  Like yesterday, when he had decided to surprise Armin from behind with a bear hug, picking him up off the ground, both of them laughing so loud everyone looked their way.

The pizza eventually came, and they all ate to their heart's content and until their bellies were full.  They were only halfway through their first movie when Mikasa fell asleep on the loveseat, a quilt folded around her slender frame.  She even began to snore lightly, and Eren got up to take a picture of her with her mouth gaping wide open, hair falling across her face.

"She's gonna kill you, you know," Armin said quietly.

"Probably."  Eren grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, and crawled behind Armin, covering both of them with it.  "I was cold and your feet smelled," Eren explained.

"My feet _did not_ smell, Eren Jaeger," Armin said indignantly, turning so that he was on his back.  

"I know," Eren replied, propping himself up on one elbow so that he could better see the tv screen.

They continued watching their movie-- _National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation_ , of all things--when Armin's phone started to vibrate a few minutes later.  He took his phone out, and it wasn't a conscious action, but Eren happened to see who was texting his friend.  Jean.  He breathed out slowly, trying not to let himself panic.  Not even when Armin smiled at the text and then angled his phone slightly away from Eren as he tapped out a response.  Eren returned his attention back to the movie, hearing Armin sigh softly.

It was maybe about 15 minutes later when he was conscious of the fact he had his hand in Armin's hair, soft blond strands parting between each of his digits.  His mind was wandering freely, feeling at peace and so warm and comfortable this close to his friend.  He couldn't help it, the feelings he had for Armin were at the forefront of his heart and mind.  It was taking all that was in him not to tilt Armin's chin up and kiss him softly on the lips, again and again.

It had been almost a month now since they had been close in this way, since Halloween night when Armin had spent the night in his bed. Armin's hair felt nice under his palm, and he noticed for the first time in a long time just how golden his friend's hair color was. He mused for a minute, trying to draw a comparison between his hair and something else he had seen before.  But in the end, he concluded that perhaps there wasn't anything out there as beautiful as Armin's hair, as beautiful as the rest of him.  Armin continued to watch the movie peacefully in front of him, and Eren would have thought he was asleep but for the occasional shifting of the blond's feet and the blinking of his eyes.

Eren's tan fingers wrapped around a long, thick strand of Armin's golden hair, and he wound it slowly around his index finger. The disparity in the colors between his skin and Armin's hair was complementary, and Eren smiled softly at how they seemed to be woven together so effortlessly.

He felt his thoughts begin to wander, thinking of how nice it would be if he could continue to play with Armin's hair like this, and maybe after a while the blond would look up at Eren, his cheeks heated with a red blush of want.  Then Eren would move his free hand away from Armin's hair, trailing it across his friend’s t-shirt and under the cottony material, fingers ghosting over his stomach, up to his chest, feeling him up so slowly and gently.

"Eren?" Armin asked softly, his eyes still on the movie.

"Hmmm?" Eren asked, completely distracted.

"Why do we--why is it that we watch Christmas movies on Thanksgiving break?"

Eren released the strand of Armin's hair he had been playing with in favor of another. He thought for a moment, wondering where his friend was going with this.

"I guess . . . Because we always have? Since we were kids?"

Armin turned his head towards Eren, his body so close now that he could feel the shared heat between them. His friend's eyes were bright from the light of the television, animated by some thought, some idea. And Eren couldn't help but again think of how much he was in love with his friend. How he admired his beauty, from the shape of his button nose to his soft, blushing cheeks, to his silky hair that he currently had this fingers caught in.

"I know but . . ." Here Armin seemed to be struggling with how to say something and Eren frowned. "But what if things were different?"

Eren stilled, hearing the hesitance in Armin's voice. He had never really seen his friend afraid to talk to him about something, and he instinctively felt cautious.

"I don't know what you mean, Armin."

"Argh!" The blond exhaled through his nose, and slapped his hands across his eyes, shielding them from Eren's view.  And now Eren was really scared.  What could possibly have his friend reacting this way?

"Are you really that scared of change, Eren?" Armin whispered.

Realization hit Eren like a bucket of icy water dumped over his head. And as it started to trickle through him, it hurt as much as if it were the real thing. This was about Jean.  Armin was trying to tell him about how Jean and he were together now, right?  All the pieces fit together and made sense. Here Armin was, trying to ease Eren into it gradually, because he knew Eren didn't like change at all.

Yes, it did all seem to make sense now, Eren thought wildly.  The way Jean had been texting Armin tonight. Armin's happy smile as he responded. His friend now talking about change.  How he had seen them in the hall together multiple times now, sharing some sort of private conversation.  It was a punch to the gut, and Eren couldn't breathe for a minute.

But then he felt worse.  Because what if this conversation was brought upon because of Eren and their usual way of being close?  Of touching each other without even thinking about it, caressing Armin's hair for quite a long time now? And--and now Armin was thinking things couldn't be like that anymore, and everything was going to change, his whole world was going to tip upside down all because his wonderful, beautiful best friend found a boyfriend.  And it wasn't him.

"Eren?"

Eren's breath caught in his throat, and it made a choking sound. He tried desperately to catch his breath, to get ahold of himself. To make this easier for Armin. Because now his friend was peeking at him between his thin, pale fingers. And he must've seen something to worry about, because in a flash he pushed himself up on his elbows, eyes wide and alarm written all over his face.

"Eren! Eren! What is it?" he whisper-shouted.

There was so much concern in Armin's voice, and it nearly broke Eren to hear it.  How could he ever explain? How could he ever tell Armin how much he loved him?  How much he would give to make sure he was happy?  How much he didn't want things to change between them if it meant he couldn't be like this with Armin anymore?  But . . . but Armin was more important.  He couldn't spit those words up and throw a wrench into Armin's new relationship.  If he thought there needed to be a line drawn in the sand now, he would give it to him.

"I'm sorry, Armin," Eren gasped. "I-I. I won't touch you anymore." And then he wrenched his eyes away from Armin, instead choosing to stare at his own blanketed feet.   So he didn't see the shuttering of blue eyes in front of him. The way those wide pools of sky blue seemed to turn glassy. "I'll be right back."

With his heart on fire, Eren climbed unsteadily off of the couch, needing to hide from Armin.  When he came back to the living room, how many minutes later he knew not, the end credits for the film were running.  Mikasa was awake and talking with Armin in a low voice.  When they both noticed Eren's reappearance, Armin got up from the couch and went into the entryway.  

"I'm going to take Armin home," Mikasa said in a low, concerned voice, eyes scanning over Eren.  "I'll be back soon."

Eren didn't have it in him to protest. Without a word, he climbed the stairs to his room and crawled into his bed. He heard Mikasa return and open his bedroom door. But he pretended to be asleep, his back to her. There would be no talking about this, no way to reassemble the pieces of his and Armin's friendship.  Armin seemed to recognize that too, leaving like he did.  Eventually, Mikasa shut the door and went to her own room.

Eren's mind raced the rest of the night.  He saw the near future in his mind, and it involved Armin and Jean holding hands at school.  Teasing each other near the lockers before class.  It was Jean giving him a ride home from school, leaving an empty spot in the car every day.  It meant no more touching Armin's hair, his hand, his anything.  It meant Armin knew how he felt about him, and how could he not with how Eren reacted, and still chose Jean instead.

The tears that fell were hot on his cheeks, dampening a considerable amount of area on his pillowcase.  Hours passed, and Eren mourned what he honestly believed was the end of his longtime friendship with his best friend.

 

* * *

 

December

The first week of December was pretty bad for Eren.  Armin didn't ride with him and Mikasa into school or after classes, and Eren figured that Jean was now taking on that responsibility.  That thought was made stronger by the fact that Armin didn't sit by Mikasa and him during homeroom, choosing instead to sit near the far side with Jean and Marco.  It drove him up the wall, and he dug his fingernails into the palms of his skin.  He was surprised that Mikasa didn't mention it, but Eren figured that Armin must have said something at one point to his sister.  Eren remained silent on the subject, choosing to slip his earbuds on and listen to music with his head on the desk.

He completely avoided study hall that first week, getting Mr. Zacharius to write a pass for the library instead.  "I have this project for English," Eren explained, which was true.  Mr. Zacharius didn't question it, merely signing off on the pass and allowing Eren to escape before Mikasa and Armin arrived.  He spent the entirety of his lunch periods there also, holed away in a study desk and getting ahead on his project.  He finished it on that Thursday.  It wasn't even due until the last day of classes before their winter break.

After school that Friday, though still absorbed in his thoughts and continuing to feel quite sorry for himself, he noticed that Mikasa was steaming mad as they walked to their car.  She wrenched open the driver's side door, slamming it shut behind her.  Eren eyed her out of the corner of his eye, noticing she hadn't started the car and the way her hands were clenched around the steering wheel.

"You two will talk this out," she finally snarled, "whatever this thing is.  I.  Don't.  Care.  You will get your head out of your ass and _say something_ to him."

"Mikasa," Eren began, his voice cracking, "It's not that easy . . . "

"For the love of god," Mikasa said loudly, loud enough that the students getting into the car next to them heard her and looked at her strangely, "he is your best friend, _goddammit_ , and you will sort this out.  He deserves better than how you're acting, avoiding him at all times."

Eren opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.  He flailed around for a minute.  "I know," he said finally.  He turned to look at Mikasa, and she was looking at him sadly.

"He misses you, stupid."  But there was no longer any venom behind her words, and she laid a hand on his shoulder.

"I . . . I miss him too," Eren admitted, his voice thick with the very real threat of tears.  He covered his eyes, but it didn't stop the tears from escaping down his wrists, onto his jacket.  

Mikasa wrapped him into a tight tug for a moment.  Eren abandoned all attempts to stem the flood of his emotions and hugged her back.  "I'm so dumb . . . "

"Only sometimes," Mikasa said, finally pulling back and wiping at her own eyes.  Eren looked at her affectionately.  He loved her dearly, knowing that probably nobody else would have been able to tolerate him like she did, since infancy.  Though to most people she probably seemed closed off and reserved, Eren always saw the range of emotions warring inside of her. It was a very rare thing to get her so emotional, enough for her to raise her voice at him in real anger and then crying.  

"I'll figure this out," he said as she started the car, but it was meant mostly to himself.  "Somehow, I'll figure it out."

By Sunday night, he hadn't figured it out.  

He had been pacing back and forth across the width of his room for some time now, trying to come up with a plan.  His cell phone was in his hand, and he was tapping it against his leg as he walked, his mind in turmoil. _whattodowhattodowhattodo_ was the mantra on repeat in his mind.  Finally, with a large exhale, he sat on his bed and unlocked his phone.

 _We are picking you up tomorrow for school_ , he texted to Armin and then immediately cursed at himself.  He hadn't meant for it to sound like an order, but more like an update to an agenda.  He contemplated sending another text that sounded nicer, and was just about to type when he noticed that Armin was in the process of composing a text back.

 _Ok_. That was all that he said, but it had Eren feeling better.  He got up and walked over to Mikasa's bedroom door.  

"Come in," she called in response to his knock.  He stuck his head in the door, not surprised to see Mikasa had surrounded herself with textbooks on her bed.

"We're picking him up tomorrow," Eren announced.  He didn't have to explain who he was talking about.  Mikasa smiled at him.  

"Great."

"Oh, and . . . let's stop to pick up some donuts, yeah?  He likes those honey crullers."  

Mikasa's smiled widened.  "Okay, but you're buying."

Eren didn't fight it.  "Well I'm driving." As he headed back to his room, and for the first time in almost ten days, he smiled.

 

* * *

 

Snow was falling prettily the next morning as Eren pulled in Armin's driveway, the snowflakes light and airy as they fell towards the ground.  They had already stopped for coffee and donuts, and now Eren found himself feeling quite anxious at the task at hand.  He was tapping at the steering wheel while they waited, and the thumping must have gotten too loud, for Mikasa covered one of his hands with her gloved one.

"It's going to be fine," she said calmly.  Eren looked at her, seeing the stoic expression on her face.  "Trust me."

"I do," Eren murmured.  He saw movement near the front of Armin's house, catching sight of his friend as he walked down the front sidewalk and towards the car.  He was bundled up in a comfy looking brown coat, zipped all the way up, with the scarf Mikasa had given him peeking out of the top.  He had thrown a brown beanie over his hair, and Eren saw how some of the blond strands were poking out from underneath, falling against his neck.

"He's so beautiful," Eren murmured to himself.  He did not see the sharp look Mikasa directed at him, nor the way her features smoothed out into a knowing smile.

Armin got into the backseat, a few snowflakes melting on his coat and beanie.  "Good morning," he said tentatively, as Eren began to back out of the driveway.

"Morning," Eren replied.

"Eren got this for you," Mikasa said, turning in her seat and handing back a cup of french vanilla cappuccino and a bag that had his honey cruller in it.

"Thanks, Eren," Armin breathed, taking a sip of his drink.  "You remembered what I get?"

"Of course, " Eren said carefully. "I remember everything about you."

Mikasa directed another look at him, but then turned fully around in her seat to face the front.  She and Armin talked about their weekends and assignments on the drive, and Eren felt his anxiety grow the closer they got to school. Things were still a little weird between him and Armin, and he didn't want to go the whole school day like this.

As they approached the school, Mikasa suddenly exclaimed, "Oh hey, can you drop me off here?  I forgot I told Mr. Ness I would come by before class."

Eren didn't believe a word of it, but he did as she bid, his anxiety now beating like a drum inside of him.  He found a parking spot in the lot, but didn't turn off the car.  Finally, with a deep breath in and then out, he turned in the seat to look fully at his friend.

"Armin, I'm sorry," he said croakily.  

There was a rustle as Armin moved forward to get closer to Eren, and he looked surprised.  "What could you possibly be sorry about?"

Eren ran a hand through his hair.  "That I freaked out. That I don't know how to act sometimes, and I hurt you. I'm so sorry about that."

"Oh, Eren."  Armin sighed.  "I'm sorry then, too. I guess I should have told you sooner, but I was worried . . . that something exactly like this would happen." He looked down at his lap.  "And I didn't want to lose you as a friend over it."

"Well at least it's out in the open now, right?"  Eren asked tentatively.  "And now I know. So I hope things won't be different between us because of it. Because you're my best friend. And always will be."

Armin looked up, his blue eyes relieved but still a little sad. "You're my best friend, too."

They got out of the car and started to make their way into the school. "Armin," Eren said suddenly, stopping in the middle of the parking lot.  "Can I--is it too much to ask for a hug?" he asked hopefully.

Armin's response was to lunge at Eren with a crushing hug, arms like a vise around him.  "I missed you," Armin said softly, against Eren's shoulder.

Eren brought up a hand to touch the ends of Armin's hair. "I missed you too."

 

* * *

 

The next few weeks before winter break passed without incident.  Armin returned to his usual seat in homeroom, and Eren came back to study hall. But though Armin and he had patched things up, their interactions still felt a little different.

To begin with, Eren made sure that he kept his hands off of Armin.  It was a very challenging thing to do. He was a very tactile person, and had years of laying a hand on Armin's shoulder or pulling on his wrist to guide him through a crowd. Not to mention how he had more recently become fond of curling his blond hair between his fingers.  Doing _that_ was out of the picture now.  Quite a few times, he found himself reaching for Armin's hand to get his attention but then became aware of what he was doing and pulled his hand back just in time.  Armin saw him do this a few times, frowning for a couple of seconds, before asking Eren what he needed.

Also, Eren noticed that Armin and Jean didn't seem to sit by each other every day during lunch. On some days he did, but even when he did so, he directed his attention just as much to everyone else at the table as he did to Jean. And he never saw them being affectionate with each other, not even a slight touching of hands. Maybe, Eren thought, they were taking things slow? He still detested the fact that his friend was dating Jean Kirstein, and he hated that he couldn't touch his friend anymore in the familiar way he was used to.  But he fought against those feelings with all that he had, remembering how it felt to not have Armin around for those ten days when Eren was acting stupid. He would never let that happen again.

The Friday before break, Eren was hurrying to meet up with Connie and Sasha.  Mikasa and Armin had to stay behind school for some sort of "gifted students program" something or the other, and Connie had offered him a ride home.  By the time Mikasa and Armin graduated, both of them would have already accumulated college credits while people like Eren would still have to take introductory writing courses. He groaned at the thought as he grabbed a few texts from his locker that he would need during break.  

Eren trudged toward the back exit of the school that led out into the student parking lot. The halls were mostly empty, for the students had all quickly vacated the grounds with the promise of vacation waiting beyond the school's doors. He rounded a corner, getting a few steps closer to the back door, and then stopped quite suddenly.

Some ten feet in front of him, Jean had Marco pushed up against the lockers, their bodies pressed against each other quite intimately.  Their hands were roaming slowly over the fabric of shirts and then under, coming into contact with skin. And their lips were very much occupied in kissing each other intensely, tongues darting out and then in the other's mouth.  Eren reddened in embarrassment at catching his friends in such an act, but then a flood of anger cascaded through his body.

_What the fuck??_

Eren took a few steps closer to the pair, smashing the side of his fist into a locker.  Both Jean and Marco jumped at the noise, Marco looking confused and Jean pissed off.

"What the hell, Jean?" Eren yelled, loud enough that anyone left in that part of the building surely heard his voice.  "If you're dating Armin, you shouldn't be kissing Marco, you two-timing FUCK."  

At hearing his words, Jean went from angry to a sort of mocking incredulity, hands raised in front of him. "Are you kidding me? Are you that BLIND?"  

Eren's face twisted in anger and confusion. "No, I'm not blind, you asshole. Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

Jean tossed his head back, looking at the ceiling tiles. It was Marco who spoke up, looking at Eren with something akin to understanding.  

"Eren . . . Jean isn't dating Armin. He never was," he said quietly.

"What? Then why . . . then what . . . Thanksgiving . . . "

"Armin was giving me advice about how to tell Marco how I felt about him. That I loved him."  Jean spoke quietly now, too, and Eren saw the affection that he never saw between Armin and Jean.  Marco reached out and latched onto Jean's hand, a radiant smile on his face.

"But that doesn't explain why Armin . . .why he was talking about change."  Eren looked hopelessly at Marco, and then at Jean. "I don't understand."

Jean sighed, looking extremely exasperated. "Is that why you've been glaring at me for weeks now? Because you thought I was dating Armin?"

Eren nodded, and Jean chuckled. "I told him he should have just told Eren flat out. Kid's too much of an idiot to read between the lines," he said aside to Marco.

"Hey!" Eren protested, a million thoughts swirling in his head, still very confused.  

"Do you get it now, though?" Jean asked, placing a hand on Marco's hip. "Or do you really not see how--"

But before he could finish his train of thought, Marco cut him off and said gently, "Eren, maybe you should talk to Armin. Ok? Probably best that you hear this from him."  

Eren leaned up against the lockers, his complete perspective on everything askew. Jean and Marco passed by him, the freckled boy pausing to pat him sympathetically on the shoulder.  They were just about to round the corner when it suddenly clicked in Eren and he shouted, "Oh my god!"

"Yes, Jaeger," Jean's sarcastic voice called back.  "Oh my god, indeed."

 

* * *

 

Eren managed to make it to Connie's car, though both of his friends were grumbling at the wait.  He really didn't notice though, his heart a mess of rampant emotions and hope.  It seemed too good, the thought of Armin having feelings for him, too sparklingly wonderful to be true.  But when he looked at it again with the new information Jean had hinted at, it seemed very real.  And then he had an idea.

"Connie, can we make a detour?"  Eren pleaded from the backseat, leaning forward to place a hand on each of the front seats.  "It's important."

Connie narrowed his eyes at Eren for a minute through his mirror.  Sasha smacked him lightly in the arm.  "Con," she admonished.  "C'mon."  He gave in then, his grumpy face disappearing in the matter of a second, and a wild grin flashed across his face.

"Sure thing, Jaeger.  Where to?"

Forty-five minutes later, Eren was back at home and in his room.  And he was busy.

He heard the sound of Mikasa's steps on the stairs, and then she poked her head in and around his partially closed door.  "What are you doing?" she asked as she took a few steps into his room.  

Eren stepped to the side to give her a view of what exactly he was doing.  "It's for Armin," he explained.  

"I can see that," Mikasa smiled.  "Will you have time?"

Eren huffed a breath.  "I hope so. Yes."

"I take it he's still coming tomorrow for the Christmas Eve party?"

"Yup, we talked about it today."

"Good."  She started to move away.  "What brought this on, by the way?"

"Jean," Eren answered, already busy again.  "Jean fucking Kirstein of all people."

 

* * *

 

Christmas Eve morning dawned, bright and cold.  The sunlight slanted in through the windows in Eren's room, the golden rays making their way in through the cracks of his blinds.  His phone's alarm went off some time later, and he groaned.  He had only gotten a few hours of sleep.  But he got up anyways, stretching and then cracking his neck.  He still had a good amount of work to do.

Dr. Jaeger held an annual Christmas Eve party every year, and family from his side and Eren's mother's side regularly made an appearance.  It was both a nuisance and a blessing to have everyone over.  Some of the family members that came in were people that Eren was still pretty close with and he wished that he saw them more often.  But there were others that he saw exactly once a year--at this very same party--and he thought even that was more often than he would like.  

"Ugh, what a troll," Eren muttered to Mikasa that evening, as one of his father's cousin's wife walked away.  "She's totally just here for the booze."

"Eren," Mikasa said warningly, "Be quiet.  People will hear you."

"You know it's true," Eren said, snickering.

Mikasa looked around the room full of people that were engaged in conversation with others.  "So, did you finish it?" She didn't have to specify what she was talking about.

"Yeah," Eren said, looking a little nervous.  "I wonder when he'll get here."

"I'm proud of you, you know," Mikasa said, eyes watching as the aforesaid father's cousin's wife poured herself another glass of alcoholic punch.  

"Why?" Eren asked, nibbling absentmindedly on a cookie.

"Because you finally came to your senses."  Mikasa's gaze spotted movement near the front door.  "By the way, Armin's here."

"Shit!  Shitshitshitshit."

Armin spotted both Eren and Mikasa and made his way over to them.  Eren couldn't help noticing that his hair was tied back, some stubborn strands of blond hair again falling forward to frame his face.  He looked beautiful, and the thought brought a blush to Eren's cheeks.  

"Hey guys," Armin said lightly, cheeks rosy with the cold from outside. He glanced quickly at Eren before his eyes settled on Mikasa. "Merry Christmas."

Mikasa leaned forward to hug Armin, fine strands of black hair falling over her shoulders.  "Merry Christmas."

Eren felt the pulses of anxiety glide through his veins, coating every surface under his skin with the emotion. His body felt jittery, thoughts erratic, as he considered what he wanted to do and all the things he wanted to say.  He bit his lip, watching as Mikasa and Armin separated.  His sister cast a glance his way, gesturing very subtly to the side with her head as if to say, _your turn_.

"Armin . . . " Eren began, wringing his hands together near his chest.  "I, uh. I have something for you. Your present. In my room. Canigiveittoyounow?"

"What?" Armin asked, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear.  "What was that last part?"

Eren exhaled heavily.  "Can I give you your gift?  Now?"

Armin blinked a few times, looking unsure.  Eren felt a crack in his composure--what little he had left--and felt that anything but a yes would send him spiralling down into the abyss of despair. But his brief imagined foray into nothingness was not to be. For Armin smiled at him, shoving his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

"Sure."

The two of them left Mikasa downstairs with relatives, Eren gripping the railing for dear life as he ascended to the second floor.  They didn't say a word to each other from the time it took them to climb the stairs to when Eren was shutting the door behind them.  Christmas music and the distant chatter of unintelligible conversations drifted into the room.  Armin stood in the middle of the room, looking around at the many posters that covered the walls to the laundry that was spilling out of a hamper.  Almost as if he had never seen any of it before.  And it bothered Eren for a minute while he went to his dresser to retrieve Armin's gift.  But then he thought that maybe, just maybe, Armin was as nervous as he was, and didn't know how to act.

Lingering near his dresser, Eren summoned his courage, throwing all of his everything into the moment.  He saw through the reflection of the mirror over his dresser that Armin had taken a seat on his bed.  Slowly, Eren turned, eyes on his feet.  There would be no going back from this.  If all went well . . . then everything would change.  He had pondered that very fact for the past 24 hours, and it had left him feeling a little off kilter.  But then he had realized that the direction he had been heading in for so long must have needed to be recalibrated.  Because every time he was near Armin, talking and laughing with Armin, _touching_ Armin, it felt so right.  And that this time, change wouldn't be a bad thing.  

"Armin," Eren said quietly, taking a seat near his friend.  "I made this for you."

Eren held his palm out, and lying on top of it was a brand new bracelet.  Four different colors--yellow and blue, brown and teal--were woven intricately together.  It was braided together similarly to that of the one from 6 years ago.  But now it was wider with the addition of more colors, pulled more tightly together so that there would be no danger of unraveling.  Eren had reinforced the parts that would join the two ends together, so that they would never fray, the bracelet would never all off.

Armin looked up at Eren wordlessly, his face frozen, his eyes burning with an unspoken question.

"Six years ago," Eren began, his voice a little wobbly, "I gave you a different bracelet.  I was afraid to lose you then, and when I heard that you had made it through your surgery, it was one of the happiest moments of my life."  He paused to look up at Armin, whose lips had parted just the smallest of amounts.  "And yesterday, with the help from someone I least expected, I came to realize something. So I made you this."

There was a quiet, meaningful, pause between them.  Armin looked at the bracelet for a minute, and then slowly took it from him, now looking at it in his own palm.  Eren's mouth felt dry, his courage burning off very quickly.

"What did you realize, Eren?" Armin asked seriously.

Eren laid his spare hand over Armin's, so that both of them were resting on his best friend's knee.  It felt so good, so right, to touch Armin again after such a long time of holding back.  Armin didn't miss the gesture, and now he eyed Eren with something like a tremulous sort of hope.

"I realized that you most definitely _were not_ dating Jean Kirstein."

"What?" Armin looked at him in confusion.  "Why would you ever think that?"

Eren smiled nervously.  "Ahhh, it's a long story.  But it made me see that maybe all of this . . . this weirdness between you and I was because we were trying to figure out how to talk to each other, and say . . "  Eren took a deep breath.  "Say how we felt about each other."

Armin's cheeks reddened, and he shifted slightly on the bed.  "I think by now you must know how I feel about you," he said quietly, eyes on their joined hands.  "Isn't that why you ran away from me on Thanksgiving?"

"No, Armin," Eren said earnestly.  "I ran away because . . . I thought you were telling me that you were dating Jean, that things needed to change, that you didn't want me to touch you anymore." Armin looked like he wanted to interrupt, but Eren continued, feeling the searing need to get it all out in the open.  "Look, the truth of it is, I love you.  I'm _in love_ with you.  And I have been for a long time, I just didn't know it.  I want us to always be together, side by side."

Armin's eyes were two round pools of bright blue, his face gone slack with shock.  "Is this real?" he breathed out.  

"Yes," Eren whispered.  

Armin leaned forward slowly then, eyes carefully watching Eren for any sign that what he was about to do wasn't welcome.  But Eren closed his eyes, moving forward to meet Armin in a soft kiss.  

Together, they navigated through a sweet kiss of discovery, tentative at first and then building to a gentle crescendo.  For though they had touched so often each other's hands, wrists, hair, it had never been anything else that could have been considered anything beyond the strong bonds of platonic friendship.   But now they were learning how to touch each other with their mouths, how it felt for Eren to feel Armin's smooth lips moving against his and how it felt for Armin the first time Eren dared to lick into his mouth.

It was the exciting feeling when you experience the power of an airplane taking off, but also the safe and protective feeling of slipping into a hot shower on a bitterly cold day.  It was everything all at once, and it continued to be that way even after their lips parted, and they found themselves staring at each other in amazement.

"Can you say it again?" Armin murmured, his chest rising and falling with the power of his emotions.

Eren gazed at him a moment, overcome with the tremendous feeling of happiness.  "I love you."

"I've wanted to hear you say that for so long now," Armin said softly, looking down to see that their fingers were laced together.  "I think I've known for years now that I loved you . . . more than as a friend."

"I wish I had realized it sooner," Eren said, his voice still a little shaky.  "It finally just kind of hit me one day."

Armin smiled, an expression of exuberance lighting up his features quite beautifully.  "Will you help me put this on?" he asked, opening the hand that he had clasped around the gifted bracelet.

"Yeah."  Eren attached the bracelet to Armin's left wrist, taking care to make sure it was fastened correctly.  

"I missed touching you," he confessed.  "It was so hard not to . . . I hated it so much."

Armin's brow creased for a moment, but then it softened into a gentle smile.  "You don't have to hide it anymore, though."  

Eren studied him for a minute, and then he brought a hand up to glide over Armin's chin, up to his cheek.  But then his hand was working into Armin's hair, and he moved forward to press their lips together again.

 

* * *

 

Mikasa was chatting animatedly with one of the Jaeger cousins when her adoptive father came around.

"Have you seen Eren?" he asked, eyes searching the room.  "I thought I saw him with Armin a while ago."

Mikasa bit the inside of her mouth, pretending to think about her answer.  "I think he's giving Armin his Christmas present."

"Oh."  Dr. Jaeger took a sip of his drink. "Would you mind seeing if you could find him?  Your Aunt Faye wanted to give both you and Eren your gift before she left."

"Sure."  Mikasa bit back a smile, doing a circuit around the living room and kitchen before slowly making her way up the stairs.  Finally, stopping just outside of Eren's closed door, she raised her hand to knock.

 

* * *

 

Eren and Armin were engaging in a slow and passionate sort of kissing, and at some point, Armin had lain down on the bed, pulling Eren down with him.  The smaller teen had one hand clenched in the fabric of Eren's red Christmas sweater, not wanting him to gain even the smallest amount of distance away from him.  

Eren was half-hovering over Armin as they kissed, propped up by an elbow.  His spare hand wandered quite freely, from the soft skin of Armin's neck to the thick, golden strands of his hair.  But he had grown more bold, and he slipped his hand slowly under Armin's shirt, caressing the bare skin above the waist of his jeans.  

Eren's touch was not meant to be sexual in nature, though it was more than a bit arousing for Eren to glide his hand so freely and intimately over Armin's skin.  But it was more borne out of a need to make up for lost time, neglected touches.

"Eren . . . " Armin murmured against his lips as they kissed, "keep touching me."

Their lips continued to move against each other, each kiss a shock of sweet sensation through their bodies.  Eren moved his hand up Armin's stomach to his chest, his touch gentle.  But then he felt a new texture to Armin's skin, and he paused, pulling his lips away from Armin.

"Your scar?" Eren questioned.  Armin nodded, lips slightly swollen from the amount of kissing they had done, cheeks red with the heat of passion.  

"Does it weird you out?" Armin asked, gazing at Eren.

"No."  Eren's fingers traced slightly over the end of the scar.  "Can I see it?"

Armin hesitated for only a second.  "Yes."  He pulled the front of his shirt most of the way up, exposing his bare abdomen to Eren's eyes.  And all Eren could do for a minute was stare, wide-eyed, trying for some semblance of control.

Eren hadn't often seen Armin without a shirt.  Since his surgery at 11 years old, Armin would always wear a t-shirt to the beach, or would hurriedly change out of his gym t-shirt into his regular clothes.  It had never been like this, Armin willfully exposing himself to Eren's--to anyone's--eyes.

Armin's skin was pale, considerably lighter than the rest of his skin that was exposed to the sun during the summer.  Eren's eyes wandered over his abdomen, spotting a few freckles dusted on his side and chest.  He moved his pinky to glide over one, feeling no difference in how the skin felt under the pad of his finger.  His nipples were two hard beads under Eren's palm, and Armin's eyes fluttered shut as he touched them.  But Eren's bright teal eyes were drawn most to the long, vertical scar that ran down a good portion of Armin's chest.  He ran the fingers of one hand down the length of the scar, feeling again the difference in the texture of his skin.  His thoughts swirled with memories of seeing Armin in the hospital bed, happy to see Eren and Mikasa coming to visit him.  And Eren felt quite suddenly the extent of just how precious Armin was to him.  He slowly lowered himself over Armin's chest, and then softly kissed the part of the scar that he thought was closest to Armin's heart.

Armin's fingers threaded through Eren's hair then, and suddenly one tender kiss was not enough.  And the strong, surging need to touch, to explore, to be close together wrapped the two of them into their own cocoon of warmth and love.

**Knock, knock, knock**

 

* * *

 

Mikasa waited for a response, not at all inclined to open the door.

"What is it?" Eren called from the other side, his voice sounding a little husky.  Mikasa smiled.

"Dad's looking for you.  Aunt Faye wants to give us our gifts before she leaves.”

"Uh, okay.  Uh . . . we'll be right there."

"Alright."

Mikasa went back down the stairs, but lingered near the bottom, making conversation with a couple of children who were seated on the floor and playing with action figures.

"Isn't Iron Man the coolest?" one of them asked.

"No, Olivia, Thor is better!  Don't you think so, Mikasa?" asked her brother, Jamie.

The two of them reminded her so much of Eren and herself.  She couldn't resist, kneeling down to speak to both of them.  "They're both pretty awesome," she admitted, but then said with a sly smile, "but Batman is better."

"Nuh uh!" They both protested.  Mikasa got to her feet, seeing Eren and Armin coming down the stairs.  She tried not to let her glee show _too much_.  But she couldn't really help but hiss at Eren:

"Fix your hair!"

She got great satisfaction at seeing her brother blanch as he hurried to flatten his hair while Armin's cheeks blossomed into an obvious blush.

 

* * *

 

January

 

Eren didn't want vacation to end.  But the first day back was upon them, and he walked with Mikasa and Armin as usual towards the entrance of the school.  With one major change--for Eren and Armin had their fingers laced together as they walked across the parking lot, oblivious to most of what was going on around them.  

Except there are just some things that can't be ignored.  Like Jean Kirstein's sarcastic and knowing voice.

"About damn time," he chuckled, folding his arms across his chest.

After homeroom, Eren reluctantly let go of Armin's hand, the one that had a new bracelet wound around the wrist.  "I'll see you later?" he asked.  Armin smiled knowingly.

"I'll see you in fourth."

Eren watched Armin and Mikasa walk down the hallway.  He was tempted, for a minute, to run after them and leave Armin with one last kiss.  But he didn't.  Because there would be time for all of that.  Endless amounts of kisses.  Nights of holding hands while watching a movie or tv.  Always touching somehow, woven together like the threads of Armin's bracelet, with no end in sight.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! And Happy New Year!


End file.
